


Reinforcements

by ShiieldMaidenofGondor



Series: Reinforcements [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Action/Adventure, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Eventual relationship, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Friendship/Love, HP Characters in Middle Earth, Slow Build, Swearing, but idc, i love my crossover ships so much, ily i promise, im sorry faramir, lots of swearing, this is too many tags, too much prolly, what am I doing with my life, women being friends, women being fuckin awesome
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-09-28
Updated: 2017-01-09
Packaged: 2017-12-27 20:16:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 32
Words: 100,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/983153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShiieldMaidenofGondor/pseuds/ShiieldMaidenofGondor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Middle Earth is in dire need of assistance with the menacing threat of Sauron looming over their heads. Who do they turn to for reinforcements? None but Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry who has three very capable red-headed siblings in mind for the task.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Excellent

**Author's Note:**

> I've heard it said that if you can't find the story you want to read you should just write it yourself, so that's what I've done! I looked and looked for a Harry Potter/Lord of the Rings crossover featuring Ginny or the twins and found nothing, so I wrote it myself. In future chapters, this will be Ginny/Aragorn, just fyi. If you know you'll be upset by that, click that little back button and find another story that's more to your taste.
> 
> I don't own Harry Potter or Lord of the Rings. If I did, I wouldn't be looking for a job right now.
> 
> This story is also posted on FFN in its current entirety. Here you can find the refined and edited early chapters, but there's a lot more of it on FFN.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dumbledore, it seems, can plan and scheme even in death, and this time it's Ginny, Fred, and George who will carry out his plans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo so this is pretty much just a prologue, but hey, every story has to start somewhere. 
> 
> I don't own Harry Potter or Lord of the Rings, or anything associated with them. If I did, I could afford a car.

On the late afternoon of May 31, 1997, Fred, George, and Ginny Weasley somberly walked back to Hogwarts castle after the funeral of their beloved headmaster. He had been killed in battle with Death Eaters, so sudden that they could hardly believe it. They had infiltrated the castle in the dead of night and though Harry had warned them, nothing could have prepared them for the destruction that Voldemort’s followers would bring. Ron, Hermione, Neville, Luna, and Ginny fought alongside the Order of the Phoenix against them and they made it out alive, but not without casualties. Sure, Bill survived being attacked by Fenrir Greyback and he wasn’t a werewolf, thank Merlin, but he would never be the same. Harry later told them that Snape was the one that killed Dumbledore - that he looked him in the eye and cast the killing curse, blasting the old man clean off of the astronomy tower. The funeral was heart-wrenching. The white marble tomb, phoenix song, and centaur tribute made it sad and beautiful all at once.

 

Ginny's thoughts dwelled on how Harry had talked to her afterwards. He said that he couldn’t be with her anymore because “she’d be a target.” Fuck that, she’d be a target _anyways_ for being the sister of the chosen one’s best friend. The hell she went through first year proved that. In spite of Harry’s words, Ginny forced herself not to care. Personally, she thought that Harry’s argument was a load of dragon shit, but she let him think she understood. She kept a straight face until he left, fighting back tears, but as soon as he was gone, the tears began to flow and they wouldn’t stop.

 

She wasn’t just crying over Harry; but that had certainly pushed her over the edge. She was so damn _overwhelmed._ Her brother was incurably injured, her headmaster had just died, there was definitely a war on the horizon, and to top it all off, her damn boyfriend - _ex-boyfriend,_ she corrected herself - was a self-righteous dick. The angry and frustrated tears wouldn’t stop, not until the twins found her and calmed her down, helping her up and back to the castle. 

 

Fred and George had come back to Hogwarts for the funeral, there was no way in hell that they would do anything else. They’d closed up shop for a few days; Diagon Alley had been turning into a ghost town lately anyway. Upon their arrival at the castle, they had taken it upon themselves to comfort their younger siblings, Ginny to be more precise.

 

Ron was taken care of. In all honesty, Harry and Hermione would sooner join up with Voldemort than leave his side and they’d do a better job of comforting him than Fred and George could. Ginny, on the other hand, was another story. Yeah, she’d had Harry and some friends of her own, but judging by the outcome of the little talk she’d just had with the boy wonder, that wasn’t going to be an option. 

 

So, the twins caught up with Ginny after Harry left her by the lake, left her _crying,_ Fred noted to himself. Friend or not, he was going to pummel that kid before the day was out. Newfound grudges against the Boy Who Lived aside, he and George managed to get Ginny to come with them back up to the castle after persuading her to dry her tears. She didn’t even question them when they started leading her through the castle in a direction that was decidedly _not_ towards the Great Hall or the Gryffindor tower. 

 

Before the funeral, Professor McGonagall had approached the twins and requested that they and Ginny go to the Headmaster’s office after the ceremony ended. They had nodded mutely, unwilling to say anything at that point in time. They had followed her instructions and now had come upon the vigilant gargoyle that guarded the office.

 

“Cockroach Clusters,” George recited the password that McGonagall had given them and the gargoyle stepped aside. Fred started up the stairs and behind him, George ushered Ginny forward. At the top of the spiraling staircase, they were greeted by a host of empty frames. Every former headmaster had retreated from the office with one exception.

 

“Hello Mr. Weasley, Miss Weasley, Mr. Weasley,” said Dumbledore’s voice. Fred’s attention turned to the only occupied portrait and he nodded in acknowledgement.

 

“Hello, Professor,” he said in greeting. Ginny nodded at the old professor, not trusting her voice. Initially, she thought it might be comforting to see him again, but the sight only intensified her pain and anger.

 

“I trust you are wondering why I have summoned the three of you here,” he said. The red-headed siblings nodded. 

 

“A few months ago, I was contacted by an old friend,” he began. “His home is at war, or he expects it to be soon, and he came to me for help,” he explained. Fred and George exchanged a look over Ginny’s head, each letting the other in on their skepticism. 

 

“This man is known by many names, but the one most people call him by is Gandalf the Grey. He is a powerful wizard, but his magic is different from yours or mine when I was alive. He is from a different realm and thus his magic is subtly different from ours. By that I mean that he is not from earth, but from another world entirely - Middle Earth, or Arda to some. In that world, evil is beginning to stir anew and Gandalf fears that his power is inadequate for fighting it alone. He has requested reinforcements: reinforcements of the magical variety,” he explained. Dread and trepidation started to settle in Ginny’s gut and she lifted her head to look at Dumbledore’s portrait with suspicion. “I agreed to send him help and even before my death, I had made the decision to send the three of you,” he said.

 

Ginny’s jaw dropped.

 

“Professor,” she began, “with all due respect, we can’t just pick up and leave,” she said, using all her energy and effort to keep her voice steady and even. “If we’re good enough to help out this ‘Gandalf,’ then our skills are surely good enough to make a difference in the first against You-Know-Who! We’re on the brink of war and we _need_ to stay and fight by Harry’s side!” Ginny finished, her voice rising in volume and pitch as she spoke. Dumbledore gave the three siblings a pitying look, his eyes settling on Ginny.

 

“I admire your loyalty, Miss Weasley, but you must understand that Middle Earth is in a time of desperate need. We have countless wizards and witches here to fight for our cause, while they only have Gandalf and Saruman, another wizard of Gandalf’s order,” he said.

 

“If there are so many witches and wizards here, why does it have to be us?” Ginny demanded. "Why not send some of them? What the _bloody hell_ gives you the right to do this to us? What gives you the right to just ship us off wherever you feel like? You’re _dead!_ What the _everliving fu-_ ”

 

“Miss Weasley, my decision is final,” Dumbledore said, cutting her off. Ginny stopped her shouting, but scowled at him with all the anger and ferocity she had in her. “You are needed and Gandalf is waiting for you. Their world is not at war yet, though Gandalf expects they will be before long. I may not be an authority on Middle Earth, but I believe that you three will have parts to play in bringing peace to their world,” he continued. The siblings looked at each other, silently debating their options. Ginny took a deep breath and forced herself to think rationally. _If the threat they’re facing is anything like You-Know-Who, then they’re in deep shit._ She could understand their need for help if nothing else. She nodded reluctantly to the twins and they turned back to the portrait.

 

“We’ll go,” George answered for them. “When can we tell our family and pack our things?” he asked.

 

“I am truly sorry, but I cannot allow that,” Dumbledore said, “We cannot risk this information falling into the wrong hands.”

 

Ginny’s eyes widened in shock, anger, and disbelief. _He expects us to just leave without saying goodbye?_

 

“When will we go?” Fred asked, cutting off Ginny before she could snap at the headmaster again. Ginny glared up at the portrait. She was always taught to respect the dead, but she couldn’t help but be angry with the wizard - _portrait_ \- she reminded herself. He had the gall to take her and the twins from her family when they were most vulnerable! Charlie was off in Romania, Bill was just beginning to heal, Percy was still being an arse, and Ron would surely follow Harry wherever he was planning on going, even if it meant death. She doubted that Mum could handle the disappearance of three of her children, leaving her and Dad alone. She could have nonverbally set the portrait on fire with the ferocity of her glare.

 

“As soon as possible. You will not need to pack anything,” Dumbledore said, “you will arrive in a place called Imladris, and there Lord Elrond will provide for you. Imladris is where you will find Gandalf. He rather resembles my brother Aberforth if I say so myself,” he said. Fred and George nodded. George reached over and took Ginny’s hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Behind my portrait is the passageway. Best of luck to the three of you,” Dumbledore said gravely before swinging his frame forwards to reveal a dark tunnel. Fred thought it resembled the tunnel underneath the one-eyed witch statue. He turned to face Ginny who was angrily staring down the tunnel’s mouth. _I can't fucking believe we’re doing this._

 

“Ready, Gin?” he asked, earning himself a half-hearted glare for his use of her nickname. Nevertheless, she nodded curtly. Fred and George leaped into the tunnel, giving Ginny their hands so she could make the leap herself. George lit the tip of his wand and behind them, Dumbledore’s portrait slammed shut ominously. George took a glance at his sister and saw worry, anger, and fright etched on her face beneath her mask of brave determination.

 

“We’ll be fine, Gin,” George said to his sister. She nodded again and lit her wand, her lips pressed together in a thin line. 

 

“C’mon,” she said to her brothers as she took the lead, striding forward with renewed energy.

 

Ginny guessed that they had gone about a mile when the floor started to soften. Previously, it had been the hard cold stone pavers of Hogwarts Castle and now it was slowly becoming dirt. The stones got smaller and smaller, dirt filling in the cracks and little tufts of grass sprouting between the stone. There was still a hint of a tunnel around them, but it was growing lighter. The walls transitioned into closely growing tree trunks and dappled light began to shine through the canopy of tree branches. As they continued on, the trees became more and more spread out until the tunnel ended, leaving the three Weasleys standing in the middle of a forest. Ginny huffed in annoyance.

 

“Dumbledore said we’d meet Gandalf here,” she said grumpily. “I don’t see any Aberforth look-alikes, do you?” she asked her brothers. She turned to face them, but instead of matching red-heads, she saw a tall man in a grey robe holding an equally tall gnarled staff. She looked up at his face and saw a long and scraggly grey beard with matching hair, bushy eyebrows, and a pointed and wide-brimmed greyish blue hat. He looked down at Ginny with a smile. Next to her, the twins were just as lost for words as she was - an extremely rare occurrence.

 

“Excellent!” the man said, “You must be the ones Albus sent."

 

Ginny’s eyes widened and almost all thoughts of home left her mind. _That old codger was telling the truth,_ she thought to herself. Fred stepped forward in front of Ginny and answered on behalf of all of them.

 

“Why yes, we are!” he said, regaining use of his tongue. “Fred, George, and Ginny Weasley at your service,” he said, gesturing to each of them in turn and finishing with an extravagant bow. “You must be Gandalf,” he said once he was stood upright again.

 

“Excellent,” Gandalf said again. “You are siblings, I take it?” he asked. They nodded, Ginny somewhat hesitantly. “Wonderful! Come, Lord Elrond is anxious to meet you.”

 

They walked for what Ginny was sure was miles until they reached a city. Not just any city, but a breathtakingly beautiful one. The structures seemed to grow out of the ground and they were so delicate. It was magnificent and beautiful. Ginny’s jaw dropped in awe at the place - she had never seen anything like it. She and the twins followed Gandalf as they took in their surroundings and before they knew it, they stood before a tall man who Gandalf introduced to them as Lord Elrond of Imladris.

 

“ _Mae govannen_ , Frederick, George, and Ginevra,” he said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! If you liked it, leave me a comment or drop a kudos!


	2. Adjustment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ten years later, the Weasleys have gotten used to living in Middle Earth and now, in mid-September in the 3018th year of the Third Age, they have wizards to visit and hobbits to fetch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still don't own Harry Potter or Lord of the Rings. If I did, I wouldn't have student loans.

“ _Ginny!_ ” Fred shouted after his sister as he chased her down through the winding halls of Imladris. The witch had taken a leaf out of his own book and dyed his hair a violent shade of purple in what he thought was completely unjustified revenge. Just because he might have jinxed her arrows the other day didn’t mean she had to go and harm his hair like this, he thought. He was an amusing sight to behold as he dashed through the city. In the ten years since the three of them had arrived in Imladris, the Weasley siblings had adapted well. 

 

After much discussion between Gandalf and Dumbledore, followed by no small amount of persuasion on the Istar’s part, Lord Elrond had taken on the task of housing the three Weasleys in Imladris. He’d seen to it that they’d been taught in the ways of the elves and ensuring that they were ready for whatever the world may throw at them. They’d learned to both speak and write Sindarin, how to ride, how to survive in the wild, and generally look after themselves. Whenever Gandalf was in the city at the same time as themselves, he would tutor them, help them hone their skills and adjust to the magic of Arda. (Fred and George had taken it upon themselves to teach their sister as much magic as they could, seeing as she had missed out on her last two years of formal schooling. The apparition lessons alone had been interesting, to say the least.)

 

Ginny had quickly befriended Arwen, Lord Elrond’s daughter, and the two of them grew to be very close - closer than Ginny had ever been to any of her friends at Hogwarts, even Hermione and Luna. Arwen had accepted Ginny into her life with open arms, ready to love her like a sister. Elladan and Elrohir had taken to the twins incredibly quickly, and though the elven brothers were not as mischievously inclined as the Weasley brothers, they enjoyed their company. Over the years, Ginny and Arwen watched as the elven twins slowly became more rambunctious in spite of their age, and Ginny knew that her brothers were responsible for that.

 

Ginny loved Arwen, Elladan, and Elrohir like her family, she really did, but she was not as close to any of them as she was to Aragorn. 

 

It was only a few months after she arrived in Middle Earth, her sixteenth birthday, actually, that she met him for the first time. She was having a tough time handling her homesickness and no matter what her brothers did, it only made things worse. She left her brothers alone in her room and had stormed out to the armory, determined to find something to distract herself. She had begun training with both the sword and the bow at that point, but she was not very skilled yet. 

 

She remembered it like it was yesterday. 

 

She had burst into the room, crying and angry - angry at the situation she was in, angry at her brothers, angry at herself for being angry in the first place - and she had stopped still. She had leaned heavily against the wall and slid down it until she was seated on the hard, stone paved floor and let herself just sit and cry for the first time in months. That was how Aragorn had found her. He’d helped her to her feet, handed her a sword, and led her out to the training grounds, managing to get her out of her fit of homesickness when her brothers could not and she had trained with him ever since. 

 

Now, ten years after their arrival in Middle Earth, Fred, George, and Ginny were all formidable fighters. They were all proficient with swords and bows, though they all found themselves partial to wielding a blade. Under Gandalf’s teaching, they had all learned to fully master and control their magic, though Fred and George had gone further with their magical education than Ginny did. The three Weasleys were all skilled and powerful in their own right, but Ginny was still the fastest runner.

 

Fred impatiently blew his freshly purple bangs out of his face as he ran. He knew it was an easy fix - all he had to do was cut it all off and regrow it - but that didn't mean he wasn’t going to get revenge. Up ahead, Fred caught sight of Ginny’s long ginger hair as it whipped out behind her when she dashed around a corner. Fred chased after her but then he paused. It was quiet. Ginny’s footsteps had stopped. He rounded that same corner and suddenly his arms and legs snapped to his sides and his magically rigid body fell to the ground. Thankfully, for the sake of his nose, he landed with his face up. He glared at Ginny as she removed her disillusionment charm and smirked down at him. 

 

“Ha!” she shouted at him triumphantly. If looks could kill, Ginevra Molly Weasley would’ve been dead twenty times over. “That’ll teach you not to mess with my arrows,” she said with conviction. Yesterday, after Ginny had beaten him in a friendly shooting match, Fred had enchanted Ginny’s arrows so that they would nosedive to the ground once they got within a meter of her target and to top it all off made the jinx irreversible. To call her furious would have been an understatement. 

 

Ginny’s victorious gloating was interrupted by a cough to her right. She turned and saw Aragorn looking at the two of them with an eyebrow quirked in mild amusement and a touch of confusion.

 

“Hey Aragorn,” she greeted him pleasantly. He answered with a look and a nod at Fred. “He deserved it!” Ginny said in defense of her actions. Another look. Ginny sighed, but she had a smile on her face. “Yesterday, Fred decided that it’d be amusing to tamper with my arrows. So naturally, he had to be punished for it,” she said, gesturing to Fred’s hair. Aragorn chuckled.

 

“It _was_ foolish of him,” he conceded. “You’d think he would learn not to test you by now,” he said, a little smile playing on his features as he regarded Ginny and Fred’s frozen form. He seemed to collect his thoughts, and the small smile disappeared, replaced with his usual seriousness.

 

“Gandalf is looking for you,” Aragorn said to Ginny, “he has a task for us.” Ginny nodded. She was used to Gandalf or sometimes Elrond coming to her and Aragorn with some sort of task or mission for them. Just last February, the Istar had sent the two of them to capture the creature Gollum, asking that when they caught him, they take him to Thranduil in Mirkwood for imprisonment. 

 

A few years after Ginny had arrived in Arda and once hers and Aragorn’s friendship had grown, she had asked if she could be trained as a ranger. Aragorn had agreed - after a lot of pestering and arguing on her part - and she found that she was damn good at it. She may not have the same blood as the rest of Aragorn’s rangers, but she was no less skilled. Once she had learned enough under Aragorn’s wing, they found themselves working together and they made a good team. They traveled together, as partners, and it seemed that Gandalf had something else for them. Ginny nodded at Aragorn’s words and looked down at Fred, contemplating whether or not to release him. It must have shown on her face.

 

“He asked for Fred and George as well,” Aragorn added, and even though she was not looking at him, she could hear his scolding face. She sighed. She honestly didn’t really want to release her brother, but he still had to come along, so with a quick swish and flick, he was floating beside her as she and Aragorn went to fetch George and meet Gandalf. 

 

They found the old wizard without much trouble and as they approached him, his eyes found Fred, immobile, purple-haired, and still floating beside his sister. Gandalf quirked an eyebrow and gave Ginny a look that was somewhere between exasperation and amusement. With a sigh but without the need for any verbal prompting, Ginny set her brother’s hair back to its natural ginger hue and removed the full body-bind and levitation spells, letting her brother fall to the hard stone paved floor. Fred groaned as he got to his feet, rubbing the back of his head where it had made contact with the stone. The disgruntled young wizard shot a glare at his smirking sister and gave his laughing brother a good shove and a few choice words that earned him his own look from Gandalf. Said Istar waited a beat before clearing his throat and beginning.

 

He explained to the four of them that he had just come from a visit to the Shire. He had been there to celebrate the birthday of a good friend of his, a hobbit by the name of Bilbo Baggins, whom Aragorn vaguely remembered visiting Rivendell - with thirteen dwarves in his companionship - sometime when he was very young. Somehow during his time in the Shire, Gandalf had come across the One Ring - Sauron’s ring of power, the object that could allow him to return - truly return. Gandalf said that he had left the Ring in the possession of Bilbo’s nephew, Frodo, and that he had given the hobbit instructions to leave the Shire soon and make for the village of Bree. Gandalf intended to meed the hobbit there, but given the news about the Ring, he needed to pay a visit to Saruman and doubted his chances of getting to Bree in time to meet Mr. Baggins. 

 

He wished for the twins to accompany him to Isengard - he said that it was because it would be a good experience for the twins or something to that effect - but Ginny had a feeling it had more to do with the fact that Gandalf had a hard time holding in an exasperated bitch face whenever Saruman even came up in conversation. The wizard then requested that Ginny and Aragorn go and meet Frodo in his stead at an inn called the Prancing Pony. They agreed, but as the conversation began to dull, Ginny’s mind began to wander.

 

Gandalf was always a bit edgy when it came to Saruman, but if he wanted the twins at his side for this, then something more had to be going on. Something heavy, something like dread, settled in the pit of her stomach. She had never been able to shake her bad impression of the White Wizard. She’d always had a bad feeling about him, one that had been tickling at the edge of her mind ever since she met him. She supposed it was his overly kind mask that he wore. Experience had taught her long ago that the sugary sweet ones were those you had to watch out for. It was too easy to put up a front of kindness and generosity to hide a rotten and twisted core. The thought conjured up a toad-like face in her mind’s eye. Ginny was startled out of her thoughts by an elbow to the side from Fred. 

 

“Huh?” she said eloquently, still a little lost in her thoughts and completely lost to the conversation.

 

“Gandalf asked you a question,” he said. Ginny looked up at the old wizard, oblivious to whatever he had just said.

 

“Will you be ready to depart by tomorrow?” he repeated himself. Ginny nodded. She could be out of there in an hour if she needed to be. Gandalf nodded back at her with a small smile that looked a bit like a grimace and proceeded to tell Fred and George that they too would be leaving tomorrow. 

 

* * *

 

After dinner that evening, Ginny found that she still had that sinking feeling of dread in her gut. She tried to talk herself out of it, but it was no use. She needed to talk to her brothers. Without much effort in searching, she found them in George’s room, Fred sitting lazily on the bed, repeatedly tossing and catching an apple, while George was poring over an old map beside him.

 

“Hey Gin,” Fred greeted her, drawing George’s attention. He folded up the map, freeing up space for Ginny to sit. She passed Fred, snatching his apple out of the air, and she took the space George had freed up, flopping back so she was lying on the mattress.

 

“Ready for another adventure?” Fred continued. Ginny could hear the grin in his voice. She shrugged. It was just another mission, nothing special about it. _Their_ trip on the other hand would be something else though. She idly tossed Fred’s apple from hand to hand, but said nothing. At her silence, George spoke up.

 

“You okay?” he asked her. She sighed.

 

“I’m worried,” she admitted, pushing herself up on her elbows. “You know I’ve always had this bad feeling about Saruman,” she started to explain. The twins nodded.

 

“I just, I’ve got this gut feeling that something is going to go wrong when you two and Gandalf go to Isengard,” she said. 

 

“What’re you on about?” George asked.

 

“I don’t really know,” she said. “Maybe it’s that he reminds me of the Toad,” she speculated. At her mention of Umbridge, Ginny noticed Fred clenching his fists, making the scars on the back of his hand more visible. Even after all these years, the words _‘I must not make mischief,’_ magically etched into the backs of her brothers hands, had yet to fade. Ginny knew, though, that even if they could remove them, they wouldn’t. The twins wore those scars not proudly, but like badges of honor. They got those scars for taking the fall for pranks pulled by younger students and Ginny knew that the writing on their hands was even something of a reassurance for the twins - a reassurance that they could do the right and noble thing. 

 

“We handled her just fine, how much worse could Saruman be?” Fred joked, bumping Ginny’s knee. Despite his words, the weight in Ginny’s gut refused to lessen. 

 

“Promise to be careful?” she asked. They both nodded.

 

“Promise,” they said in unison. 

 

“But you be careful too, alright, Gin?” George said.

 

“Yeah,” Fred continued, “you’re going to be out in the open, with Nazgul on your tail. Worry about those bastards, not us,” he finished with a grin. Ginny smiled a little. She sat upright and hugged both her brothers before leaving for her own room to get some rest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading. If you liked the chapter, let me know with kudos or in a comment.


	3. Suspicions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hobbits can be troublesome little shits. So can traitorous wizards.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I still don't own Harry Potter or Lord of the Rings, I promise. If I did, I could afford name-brand cereals.
> 
> Just another reminder, this story is heading in the direction of Ginny/Aragorn and if that's not your cup of tea, please remember that nobody is forcing you to read.

It was wet and dreary the night that Aragorn and Ginny reached Bree. The rain had stopped, for awhile at least, but the chilly September air was thick with moisture. From a distance, the two rangers looked pretty damn sketchy - all heavily armed, dark, and with their hoods up to boot. Someone observing them would have no idea who they were, and they liked it that way. These were dangerous times and concealing their identities did them a lot of good.

 

Ginny, however, was not so much hiding her identity as she was her gender. As much as she had grown to love Arda, the people (save for a few dwarves she met outside the Shire once) were pretty damn sexist. She couldn’t even recall all the times she had been snubbed or denied something because of what she was born with between her legs. So, she had taken to wearing large cloaks and hiding her hair under a hood when close to towns of Men. It made things easier in the long run.

 

Under her cloak she was garbed in her breeches, tunic, and jerkin, and she was heavily armed. Her long sword was sheathed at her hip, her quiver and bow were slung across her back, her wand in a holster on her thigh, and a variety of knives and daggers were hidden all over her person. Beside her, Aragorn too had his hood over his face, obscuring it in shadow. With his sword belted at his hip along with all his other weapons, he was even more heavily armed than Ginny.

 

When they reached the gates, they bullied their way past the gatekeeper and maneuvered their way through the streets to the Prancing Pony Inn. When they got inside, Ginny approached the bartender and innkeeper, a man who introduced himself as Butterbur. The name reminded her of England - of talking an laughing with her friends in the Three Broomsticks and of the first D.A. meeting at the Hog’s Head. She mentally shook herself to beat back the memories and paid for a single room for her and Aragorn to share. She left the front desk and wandered through the dining room until she found Aragorn, settled in the corner with his face still covered, puffing on his pipe.

 

“You go upstairs,” Aragorn said once she had gotten close enough to hear him. “I’ll wait for the hobbits.” 

 

Ginny sighed to herself in exasperation. _I_ really _shouldn't have to tell him why thats a bad idea._ She stood there silently, bringing her arms up to fold across her chest and shifting her weight to one foot. She continued to keep her mouth shut, but she knew that her body language was eloquent enough to get her point across to Aragorn. He could read her like an open book.

 

"And why, may I ask, is that such a bad idea? One of us should wait here while the other gets some rest," he said. 

 

“Oh, no, you're right about that, and I will happily take the first turn to rest, thank you, but how do you plan to find the room later with the hobbits if you don’t come up now?” she answered. Aragorn looked up and made eye contact with her, which she steadily held. Inwardly, Ginny found it kind of amusing that the two of them had, without any communication, fallen into the practice of ending arguments with staring contests. It was childish ands bit ridiculous, but she wouldn't have it any other way. 

 

It didn't take long for Aragorn to break, rising to his feet and snuffing out his pipe. He gestured for Ginny to lead the way and she did so, taking the stairs up to the second floor and unlocking one of the rooms. Once she heard Aragorn close the door behind her, she let her hood fall and she untied the leather that was holding her hair in its tight braid. She ran her fingers through her hair to undo the plait as she crossed the room, stopping in front of the window. Behind her, Aragorn removed his quiver and his bow, placing them slightly out of sight behind the dressing table. He approached the window and leaned on the sill beside the red-headed woman. 

 

"You were right," he conceded.

 

"Always am," Ginny quipped back at him, grinning and bumping his shoulder with her own. The pair remained by the window for a few more moments in companionable silence until Aragorn left to return to the dining room to watch for the hobbits.

 

Ginny remained in their room at the windowsill, deep in thought. Her mind dwelled on her brothers and on her worry for them. That sinking feeling of dread in the pit of her stomach had only gotten heavier since leaving Imladris, and no matter what she did, she couldn't shake it. She let herself wallow a little longer before pushing herself off the windowsill and meandering over to the dressing table. There was a little mirror set on the flat surface and out of curiosity, Ginny picked it up. 

 

When she looked into it, she saw her chocolate brown eyes staring back at her, pale skin, freckles roaming from one cheek, over the nose, and to the other, and hair as vibrant as flame. Ginny knew it was still her, but she couldn't get over how much she had changed. Her cheekbones were sharper now, her eyes were harder, and she held herself with more confidence. After a moment, her eyes were drawn back to her hair. 

 

Her whole time in Middle Earth, she had yet to come across another ginger-haired person who even slightly resembled her and her brothers. It seemed that full-on Weasley gingers were not very common - wherever you happened to be. She pulled her wand from its holster and fiddled with it, turning it in her hands and running her fingers over the carvings. She looked into the mirror again. 

 

_Maybe I should- no. No, Gin, you don't need to,_  she thought to herself. Back when she first started exploring the kingdoms of Men, she had taken to transfiguring her appearance, an extreme measure for hiding her identity. She had been a nervous child who wasn't confident enough to wear her own face. She got comfortable behind that magical mask. She got used to blending in with the crowd, used to strangers not giving her a second glance.

 

It was Arwen who convinced her to stop hiding. Aragorn had told the elleth about what Ginny had been doing and so she sat her down and they had a long talk about confidence and appearance and womanhood and it ended in Ginny promising not to hide any longer. _Maybe I should, just for tomorrow?_  she thought to herself. _No,_  she told herself vehemently. _I need to get comfortable in my own skin again. I promised Arwen. I can’t hide forever._

 

She could still go by her alias though, she reasoned. No need for strangers to know her real name. Ginny had gotten the idea for a false name from Aragorn, who insisted on being called Strider by and around those he did not trust. Following his example, nobody outside of Imladris and a few in the Shire knew Ginny’s real name. To everyone else, she was the ranger, Aglaril, who had built up quite the formidable reputation.

 

Just like with her name, hardly anyone knew that Ginny was a witch. Even though this world had more magic than the world she was born in and people were more accustomed to the unnatural, she preferred to hide her powers. Not even the Istars were respected by all Men, so what reason would they have to respect _her_ \- a _witch?_ So even though she practiced her magic with Gandalf over the years, she focused more on combat. She wanted to be able to handle herself in a fight without revealing her powers. She doubted these muggles would go so far as the ones she had read about - well, more like Hermione had read about and proceeded to tell Ginny about - but flame freezing charms were not her strong suit. 

 

Ginny knew that the townspeople here were wary of her. They had heard stories about her, stories that painted her as a ruthless killer. She knew though, as soon as she told someone here her alias, that they would spin new stories, stories about how she was silent and stoic, how the only face she ever wore was anger and whatever bloody else they came up with. 

 

She couldn’t fault them on her face, though. Ginny wasn’t completely sure why, but she had gradually closed herself and her emotions off from the world. Only the people that she really trusted ever saw her with her guard down, ever saw her laugh or smile. Even fewer people had ever seen her cry. However, there were some who could read her, like Aragorn, no matter how much she closed herself off. Aragorn could read her so well there were times he didn’t even have to look at her to figure out what she was thinking about. Fred and George could see behind her walls with just a glance, and all it took was a look at her eyes for Arwen to decipher Ginny’s emotions. Ginny appreciated that they had taken the effort to figure her out. As much as she liked to keep her emotions at bay or at least from showing, there were times when she simply needed to let her guard down, express herself and her feelings. There weren’t many people she was comfortable opening up to, but those four were among them. 

 

_You never even really opened up to Mum or Dad though, did you,_ Ginny thought to herself. And she knew it was true. She had been a teenager, she’d been stupid, and she hadn’t trusted her parents - not even her _mother -_ with her emotions and she regretted that. _Merlin,_ she missed them. She missed all of them: Mum, Dad, Bill, Charlie, Ron, Hermione, Harry. Even Percy sometimes. It had been so long since she’d seen their faces. Ten years. Ten fucking years without them, ten _fucking_ years in a new world with only two of her brothers. 

 

She was twenty-seven years old. (That alone was weird to think; less than two months ago, she’d been twenty-six.) She was twenty-seven years old, though strangely enough, she still looked like a mere twenty or twenty-one. The same was the case for the twins; the Weasleys hadn’t aged normally since arriving in Middle Earth. When they had confronted Gandalf about it, he speculated that it had something to do with the magic in their blood - that it lengthened their lives and slowed their aging. They were no elves, but if Gandalf was right, their magic would let them live for about as long as the Dunedain, possibly longer. Ginny sighed to herself as her thoughts returned to her companion downstairs.

 

If the hobbits didn’t show tonight, it was going to be a dreadfully boring evening. Ginny decided that she would rather get some rest than wait up for Aragorn, and so she did just that. She placed a few wards on the room, shucked off her boots, cloak, and weapons, and collapsed on the bed, quickly falling asleep.

 

The hobbits failed to arrive that evening so the next night, Ginny took her turn waiting for them while Aragorn took some rest in their room. After a reminder from Aragorn of the hobbit’s name - Frodo Baggins, it was, and it stirred some old memory in the dusty corners of Ginny’s brain - she headed downstairs, grimacing at the creaking of the wood beneath her feet. She crossed the dining room and took a seat in the corner, her hood casting a shadow over her face. A waitress approached her and Ginny ordered a mug of ale, more to give her hands something to do than anything else. The girl returned shortly after, and set the alcohol on the table in front of her. After a thanks from Ginny, she scurried off, giving her attention to the other patrons. 

 

She sat for a few hours, watching guests come and go and taking note of the rainfall outside. The large raindrops pounded against the windows, the rhythmic sound filling her ears. It was getting late and just as Ginny was about to give up for the night and retreat back upstairs, four very soggy hobbits walked in. In front was one with curly dark brown hair and startlingly light blue eyes and behind him were his companions. This had to be them. One of his companions was a bit larger than the rest, with strawberry blonde hair on his head and feet, and the other two looked nearly identical with their blonde curls. She watched them carefully as the dark-haired one paid for a hobbit-sized room under the name of Underhill and the four trooped upstairs. 

 

It wasn’t long before they returned down to the dining room. They ate and drank heartily and Ginny was most amused when one of the blondes discovered the fact the “big people” here served ale in pints. She had to stifle a chuckle at the hobbit’s excited expression when he returned with his precious pint but she quickly replaced her impassive façade. Eventually, one of the blonde hobbits - the one who had been so excited about his pint - started to get drunk. He had wandered over to the bar, laughing along with the men seated there, and was spouting off stories from the Shire. From what Ginny could tell, they were good ones. 

 

She remembered visiting the Shire a few years back. Gandalf had taken her and her brothers along on one of his visits to see Bilbo. _That was where she knew Frodo’s name from!_ She vaguely remembered meeting Frodo, he had been younger then, but she was pretty sure that he’d had dark hair. 

 

A drunken mention of the name Baggins reached her ears and Ginny’s eyes snapped back to the intoxicated hobbit at the bar. Ginny watched, tense and ready to jump from her seat, as the dark haired hobbit - it had to be Frodo, none of the others resembled the hobbit she remembered - tackled him to the ground. Somehow in the mess of it all, the Ring must have managed to slip itself onto Frodo’s finger because one second he was falling and the next he had disappeared.

 

Chaos erupted in the wake of Frodo’s vanishing act. Men were shouting, hobbits were panicking, and in the midst of it all, Ginny tried in vain to track Frodo’s invisible movements. She got to her feet and made her way to the foot of the stairs where she guessed Frodo to be headed and sure enough, he reappeared just to her left, trying to get around her to the staircase. Upon his reappearance, Ginny grabbed him roughly with one hand muffling his protests and the other keeping a hold of his arm. She dragged him up the stairs and to hers and Aragorn’s room. She opened the door, shoved Frodo inside, and closed it behind her. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Aragorn putting out the candles by the window. She turned back to face Frodo, throwing back the hood of her cloak.

 

“Who are you? What do you want?” he asked, panic clear in his voice.

 

“A little more caution from you,” Ginny said. “That is no trinket you carry, Mr. _Underhill_ ,” she said quietly and urgently, making sure that he knew she was aware of his false name. 

 

“I carry nothing,” Frodo tried and failed to lie. Ginny raised her eyebrows at him.

 

“I can make myself unseen if I wish, but to become truly invisible,” she said, "that is a rare gift.” She registered Aragorn coming up behind her, the floorboards creaking beneath his boots.

 

“Are you frightened?” Aragorn asked the hobbit. 

 

“Yes,” Frodo said, nodding once.

 

“Not nearly enough. We know what hunts you,” Aragorn said gravely. Ginny nodded. She was about to continue when they were interrupted by a loud bang. Ginny’s hand flew to the handle of her wand and she was sure that Aragorn’s was on the hilt of his sword. The door slammed open to reveal Frodo’s three companions, the frontmost being the slightly larger one, brandishing his fists at them.

 

“Release him or I’ll have you, Rangers!” he shouted. Ginny relaxed and she and Aragorn removed their hands from their weapons, exchanging looks of relief and mild amusement.

 

“You have a stout heart, master hobbit,” Ginny said, "but there’s no need to fear, we’re friends of Gandalf,” she explained. The hobbit was not convinced and still regarded her with suspicion. She motioned for them to enter the room and they did so hesitantly, Ginny closing the door behind them.

 

“How do we know that you’re friends of Gandalf? Just judging by your actions, Miss, I could call you a kidnapper!” said the same hobbit. 

 

“Do you remember a visit from Gandalf - it would’ve been, gosh, about eight years ago now?” Frodo and the two blonde hobbits nodded. “Do you remember his companions on that trip? Two wizards and a witch?” Ginny watched as recognition began to dawn on their faces. She granted them a small grin. She couldn’t help it.

 

“You’re Ginny?” Frodo asked. She nodded, the same light smile on her face. Frodo smiled up at her. _Yes_ , Ginny congratulated herself. She had the hobbit’s trust. She could see the same look from the two blonde ones, though the larger one was still a bit suspicious. Sure, they were all definitely still scared of Aragorn, but this was progress.

 

“Who’re you, then?” the large hobbit asked Aragorn. 

 

“You may call me Strider,” Aragorn answered. “I too am a friend of Gandalf. He was unable to come, so he sent us in his stead.” The large hobbit still had that persistent suspicion in his eyes.

 

“What’s your name, master hobbit?” Ginny asked him.

 

“Sam,” he answered hesitantly, “Sam Gamgee,” he repeated, this time with more conviction.

 

“Master Gamgee,” Ginny said, properly greeting him. “I know that you don’t trust us and that you don’t like us all that much, but you can trust that we will take you safely to Gandalf,” she said authoritatively.

 

“Take your rest in here tonight. We leave at dawn,” Aragorn said. After a nod from Ginny, the hobbits made their way further into the room. They reminded Ginny of frightened animals, the way they jumped at the slightest noise and kept together in a tight knit group. 

 

She nodded to Aragorn and swiftly left to disguise the hobbits’ room. She made quick work of their beds, some simple spells creating the illusion of four sleeping hobbits, and once she was satisfied with her handiwork, she returned to hers and Aragorn’s room. When she got there, she found that the hobbits had fallen fast asleep and Aragorn was staring out the window, leaning on the sill. 

 

_I really shouldn’t,_ Ginny tried to talk herself out of what the other half of her brain was actively planning, _but it would be so fun._ Her mischievous half won out and donning a smirk worthy of her twin brothers, Ginny cast silencing spells and muffliato charms enough to sneak up on the unsuspecting Ranger. She silently closed the door behind her and quietly approached him from behind. Stretching up on her toes, she spoke directly in his ear. 

 

“Not often I catch you off your guard, is it?” she asked him quietly. She backed away quickly and smirked widely when he jumped at the sound of her voice. He whipped around with a dagger in hand, but relaxed when he saw just who it was that had snuck up on him. Ginny could _see_ the tension deflating from his shoulders. She clicked her tongue and shook her head at him in mock disapproval. 

 

“You need to pay more attention to her surroundings, _mellon-nín_ ,” she said, a grin still on her face, amused by his reaction. He sighed at her antics and returned his attention to the window. 

 

“Get some rest, Ginny,” he said. She nodded, but instead of resting immediately like he no doubt wanted her too, spent adequate time placing necessary wards on the room. Once she was finished, she gave him a look that clearly said _make sure you get some sleep too, even if you have to wake me up_ , and set up a makeshift bed on the floor, complete with cushioning charms and conjured pillows. Before she drifted off to sleep, she heard Aragorn explaining the Nazgûl to a restless Frodo. She shuddered at the thought. There weren’t words for her hatred of those monsters. They were worse than dementors; their shrieks pierced the eardrums, and their blades were laced with poison. There were few things that Ginny was truly afraid of, but the Nazgûl were among them. 

 

* * *

 

_That lying, traitorous, bastard fuckass, I swear to Merlin-_

 

Shortly after their arrival at Isengard, the White Wizard had imprisoned Fred, George, and Gandalf atop Orthanc. He had welcomed them in, talked with them pleasantly, and then, as far as George was concerned, went bat-shit crazy with the Palantir and after they refused to join him on the side of Sauron, they ended up here. 

 

George scowled. He was cold, hungry, exhausted, and Saruman had confiscated his staff. He still had his wand in the holster on his leg, but he was saving that as a last resort. George glanced across the tower. Fred was unconscious beside Gandalf, who was weakly leaning against one of the four spires of the tower, his eyelids halfway shut. The old Istar motioned for George to come over to him. He scrambled over as quietly as possible, holding his breath for fear of detection.

 

"George, you need to escape,” Gandalf said. “Go to Lord Elrond and warn him of Saruman's betrayal, and then go to Ginevra and Estel's aid," he said.

 

"But-" George started to protest. He wasn’t about to just _leave_ Fred and Gandalf here to fight Saruman on their own. Gandalf silenced his protest with a shake of his head.

 

"No, George. You must make haste, and you are the only one here who can make a quick enough escape. Take Fredrick with you." 

 

George scowled, but he nodded. He didn’t like it, but it was a good plan. He took his brother by the arm and got to his feet, ready to apparate.

 

"You don't want me to bring you, too?" he asked. Gandalf shook his head.

 

“No,” he said. "When Saruman discovers your absence, he will need a reason to stay here instead of chasing after you." George nodded again.

 

"If you’re not in Imladris when I get back with Estel and Ginevra, we won’t hesitate to come back for you," said George. Gandalf gave him a small smile.

 

"I do not doubt that. Now go!" he said urgently.

 

George gave his mentor one last look before he drew his wand and spun on his heel, disapparating with a loud _crack_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you liked it, let me know with kudos or in a comment!


	4. Attacked

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ringwraiths are nasty sons of bitches.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello darling readers, if there actually are any of you, that is. To those of you who are reading, thank you ever so much. 
> 
> I still don't own the Lord of the Rings or Harry Potter. If I did, I could fly to New Zealand just for the hell of it and visit the Shire.
> 
> Please enjoy!

Ginny and Aragorn led the way for the four hobbits and pony trailing behind them in the early morning sunlight. Since their departure at dawn, they had made progress, but it would be long before they stopped for the night. Ginny reached the crest of the hill and passed over it, Aragorn right beside her, but they stopped when they heard the absence of hobbit footfalls. Aragorn gave her an exasperated look that she answered with and equally eloquent resigned grimace and as one, they turned back to the hobbits. There they were, just stopped.

 

“Gentlemen,” Aragorn said sternly as they reached the top of the hill, “we do not rest until nightfall.”

 

"But what about breakfast?" Pippin asked innocently.

 

"You've already had it," Aragorn replied simply, and Ginny could detect a little confusion in his voice. She knew why _he_ was confused, but she had a feeling she knew what was going on with the hobbits. One thing she remembered from her visit to the Shire with Gandalf was how much hobbits loved food. Three meals a day wasn’t enough for them, no, there was supper in addition to dinner, afternoon tea after lunch, and elevensies before.

 

"We've had one, yes, but what about second breakfast?" Pippin responded. _That’ll be it, then,_ Ginny thought.

 

Aragorn disregarded Pippin’s answer, assuming that the hobbit had to be kidding, and turned back in the direction they had been heading. Back behind them, Ginny could hear Merry talking to Pippin.

 

"I don't think he knows about second breakfast, Pip," he said.

 

"What about elevensies? And luncheon? And afternoon tea? Dinner? Supper? He knows about them, doesn't he?" 

 

"I wouldn't count on it," Merry said somewhat sadly, clapping Pippin on the shoulder.

 

Ginny shook her head to herself. Of _course_ that was what this was about. She turned to Aragorn and could see that he was listening in on the hobbits’ conversation as well. 

 

"Hobbits are used to eating seven meals a day," she explained, standing close to Aragorn and speaking lowly so the hobbits wouldn’t overhear. He raised his eyebrows at her skeptically. She nodded. _Yeah, no, I’m not kidding._ Ginny threw a glance back at the grumbling hobbits and made a quick decision. She reached into her bag and retrieved two apples, turning around and tossing them back to Merry and Pippin. She was rewarded with two smiles before she returned her attention to the path in front of her. 

 

The next few days of their journey took them trudging through the Midgewater Marshes, hiking through forest, and by the third night, climbing Weathertop. When they reached the top, Ginny and Aragorn gave the hobbits each a knife to defend themselves in case of emergency and Aragorn set off to scout the surrounding area, leaving Ginny to protect the hobbits. She was beginning to set up the wards around the ruined watchtower when she heard a loud crack. Ginny stopped in her tracks, listening intently for other noises. _Not lightning. No thunder, no rain, and no clouds. Not someone with a whip, no screams or other cries of pain,_ Ginny reasoned to herself, going through the possible sources of the noise. The only option left was apparition. _It had to be someone apparating. And I have to find out who,_ she thought. She determined the direction the crack had come from but before she went off in pursuit, she turned back to the hobbits.

 

"Stay here, and for Merlin's sake, be careful!" she hissed at them. They nodded absentmindedly, oblivious to her caution and panic. She shook her head at them, but she didn’t have time to scold them for their nonchalance. She sped off towards the sound, weaving through trees and boulders, a dagger in one hand and her wand in the other. " _Homenum Revelio_ ," she whispered. 

 

The spell did its work, worming its way into her brain and telling her that there /was/ someone, someone standing about five meters in front of her. Cautiously and silently, she stalked forward, switching her dagger into her right hand as she walked, until she came upon a tall man. He was facing away from her, but she could see a head of shaggy, shoulder-length, red hair and a dark grey cloak fastened around his shoulders. _Fred? George?_ She was nearly sure it was one of her brothers but she wasn’t about to take any chances. She quietly crept up behind the man, swiftly bringing the sharp and glimmering blade to his throat.

 

"State your name and purpose here," she hissed, ignoring the gasp he released when the cold metal touched his skin.

 

"Is that really necessary, Gin?" came George's voice.

 

“If you’re George Weasley, then answer me this,” Ginny demanded. “What did you promise to send home to me when I was ten years old?" she asked. 

 

"A Hogwarts toilet seat," he answered promptly, and Ginny could hear the grin in his voice. She removed the dagger from his throat, sheathed it, and darted around to face him, throwing her arms around her brother. "Oh thank Merlin you're alright! Where're Gandalf and Fred?" she asked, releasing him. George looked down at his feet and Ginny noticed his fists clenching tightly.

 

"Gandalf's imprisoned on top of Orthanc,” he explained, “Saruman betrayed us.” The last bit came out more like a growl than actual words. At George’s explanation, Ginny felt the sudden urge to punch something or set something alight - preferably Saruman himself. Ginny took a deep breath and swallowed that violent urge, forcing herself to be reasonable. There was no time for revenge.

 

"He'll be okay," Ginny said to her brother, trying to be reassuring. Although, honestly, she wasn't sure if she was trying to reassure George or herself at this point. "What about Fred?" she asked, “Where’s he?”

 

“Imladris, in the house of healing," he answered, “Elrond is taking care of him.” Ginny felt a huge weight lift off of her shoulders at that, quickly followed by crushing worry. _Why the hell does Fred need healing in the first place?_

 

But before she could ask, a loud and piercing screech sounded from Weathertop. Ginny instinctively clapped her hands over her ears to block out the noise, but it was pointless. Her hands barely muffled the shrieks. When she looked to see what it was, she saw black horses and black riders advancing on the ruined stronghold. She froze in terror. _Shit, shit, shit, the hobbits,_ she remembered with alarming clarity. Her face hardened and she drew her sword and wand as she ran up the hill. Right behind her, George did the same. With a cry, she scaled the incline, where her eyes fell upon a wounded Frodo surrounded by the Nine.

 

“ _Incendio!_ " George shouted, aiming his curse at one of the riders. The wraith screeched again, its robes alight, and Ginny cast the same curse on another. Another incantation was on the tip of Ginny’s tongue when Aragorn, who was armed with a sword and torch, joined them. Together the three fought them off, killing at least two horses and burning most of the wraiths, sending them running, their wails and piercing screams fading into the distance.

 

Satisfied, Ginny turned to Frodo to see Sam, Merry, and Pippin kneeling beside him, all of them obviously worried and scared. She gently nudged Pippin to the side and knelt down next to Frodo, Aragorn following her lead and George crouching behind them. Aragorn picked up the hilt of the Witch-King's knife and the broken remains of the blade evaporated before their eyes.

 

"A Morgul blade," he said, disgustedly ridding himself of the dust. He slipped the hilt into his belt and began to inspect Frodo's wound. When Aragorn prodded at it, Frodo let out a cry of pain and impulsively clutched at the wound.

 

"This is beyond my skill to heal," he said gravely, drawing away from the hobbit. Ginny could detect the worry and fear behind his strong facade. "He needs elvish medicine."

 

"How fragile is his condition?" Ginny asked. If he was strong enough, she or George could apparate with him to Imladris, but she didn't want to risk him getting splinched.

 

Aragorn seemed to have followed her train of thought because he said, "Too fragile, I fear, for apparition,” Ginny nodded. 

 

“The blade was broken,” George reminded them, “did some of it break off inside the wound? I may be able to remove it,” he said. He and Fred had taken some basic healing courses back when they first opened their shop, enough for most muggle injuries and the simpler magical ones.

 

“Most likely,” Aragorn said, “but removing it would agitate the wound.” 

 

“Then let’s go, we need to hurry,” Ginny started, “for Frodo’s sake,” she said as she got to her feet. George and Aragorn carefully lifted Frodo and settled him onto the pony while Ginny and the hobbits packed up camp. It wasn’t long before they were ready to leave, but Sam was still standing by the Bill the pony, eying George suspiciously. 

 

"What's the matter, Sam?" she asked.

 

"What's the matter is that I don't know who that man is who you came back from the brush with, and I won't be going anywhere until I know if we can trust him," he said stubbornly.

 

Ginny ducked her head to hide her smile and shook her head a little. _Of course that was what this was about,_ she berated herself for not realizing it herself. She waved George over to them. 

 

“Sam, meet my brother George. He's a wizard, like Gandalf," she said. Sam looked down at the ground, and Ginny could tell that he was a bit embarrassed for his outburst. 

 

"Oh. I'm sorry, sir. I didn't know," he said, looking a bit abashed. Ginny looked over at George and saw him grinning at Sam. He crouched down so he was eye level with him. 

 

"Don't worry about it, Sam,” he said. The hobbit looked up at him. "It's good that you’re cautious. Caution is always better than blind trust,” he commended him. “You know, I had a friend once who was so cautious and paranoid that he only drank from a flask that he kept strapped to his hip,” he said. Sam raised his eyebrows at George’s words. “Really, he did! But he was a good man and if he was in your place, he would have done the same thing.” 

 

Ginny smiled at them when Sam visibly cheered up. George had always been the more sensitive one of the twins, more talented at comforting others and making them feel better. George rose to his feet and clapped Sam on the shoulder. 

 

"Let's get going," he said and they started walking towards Bill and Frodo. Ginny heard the pattering of bare feet approach her from her right.

 

"Ginny?" someone asked her. She looked down to see Pippin standing beside her and looking up at her.

 

"Yeah, Pip?"

 

"Did your brother really have a friend who only drank out of a hip flask?" he asked her.

 

"Yes, yes he did, Pippin," she said smiling. "His paranoia was worse than Strider's," she said with a chuckle, glancing down at the hobbit to see him standing there with wide eyes.

 

"Really?"

 

"Really," she said. "Now c'mon, we need to get Frodo to Rivendell." 

 

* * *

 

Ginny watched as Glorfindel raced off towards Rivendell, Frodo slumped over in front of the elf on his horse. She prayed to Merlin that he would be okay. Aragorn came up behind her and placed a hand on her shoulder comfortingly.

 

" _He will be alright, Ginny,_ " he said in quiet elvish. Ginny nodded, though she wasn’t all that comforted. She was scared, though she would never admit it aloud. She was scared of loss. She didn't want to lose another friend, not after Sirius, Dumbledore, and countless other people in Middle Earth.

 

" _I hope you are right,_ " she responded in kind. 

 

After two more days of traveling, they had crossed the Bruinen and finally reached the city of Imladris. Ginny allowed herself a little grin at the hobbits’ awestruck faces as their heads swiveled around trying to take everything in. Their eyes were darting all over the place, drinking in the beauty and otherworldliness of it. It reminded her of her own reaction to it ten years ago. Aragorn led them along the pathways and Ginny and George ushered them forwards until they reached one of the courtyards where they were greeted by Gandalf and Lord Elrond. 

 

George sighed in relief when he saw Gandalf. The old codger had made it out. Ginny couldn’t suppress her relieved smile at him being alive and well. _But how the hell did he manage it?_ Lord Elrond took the hobbits aside to show them to their guest quarters and they departed, leaving Ginny, George, and Aragorn with Gandalf. Aragorn excused himself under the pretense of getting some rest and once the three magic users were alone, George voiced the question that had been on the tip of his tongue ever since they saw Gandalf alive and well. 

 

"How did you do it?" he asked.

 

"Eagles," Gandalf said simply. His eyes twinkled at them, and it wasn't the first time that George noticed the similarities between Gandalf and his deceased headmaster. They talked for awhile, but Ginny soon excused herself to go check on Fred and Frodo.

 

She strolled through the city to the house of healing and when she entered, she saw that Fred was sound asleep and perfectly healthy. Ginny turned from her brother's bed to look for Frodo, only to see that he already had visitors. All three hobbits, Sam, Merry, and Pippin, were seated at his bedside, Sam holding his hand. All of a sudden, Ginny was struck by the memory of sitting beside Bill’s hospital bed in the Hogwarts infirmary. The way Sam was clutching Frodo’s hand was just like how Molly had clutched at Bill’s, and when she saw him brush a curl from the hobbit’s forehead, she was reminded of Fleur tracing the horrible scars on his face. She looked at Sam and his caring nature and she saw her mother hovering over Bill’s bed just after the battle. She remembered the grief on her face - the grief that Ginny had felt herself -that uncertainty of not knowing if everything was going to be okay or not.

 

"What are you thinking about?" Aragorn asked from behind her, taking Ginny by surprise. She jumped and whirled around to see him standing behind her left shoulder. She exhaled sharply and visibly relaxed. 

 

"My brother," she answered.

 

"Which one?" he asked. He learned long ago that Ginny and the twins were from a large family, with her being the only girl and the baby of the family with six elder brothers. Not wanting to disturb the hobbits, Ginny exited the House of Healing, trusting that Aragorn was following behind her. She wandered for awhile with him at her side, gathering her thoughts. She stopped when she came upon one of the many gardens, nearly collapsing onto a stone bench. Aragorn sat down beside her, patiently holding his tongue, waiting for Ginny to speak first.

 

“I was thinking about Bill,” she said. “He was the oldest, always the strongest and toughest out of all of us, or that’s what I thought when I was little,” she said.

 

“With that damn ponytail and earring of his, I thought that he was invincible,” she continued. She scoffed at herself and her naiveté. “I was so stupid. No one is invincible.” She took a deep breath before continuing. “Bill was injured in a battle when I was sixteen and when he was in the hospital, our family gathered all around him and my mum held his hand," she explained. 

 

She could hear her voice getting thick with unshed tears and that only served to add anger at herself to the grief and homesickness that was already gripping at her heart. She tried to open her mouth to say more, but she couldn’t. If she did, she’d explode and it would all get too overwhelming. Having recognized this, Aragorn gently pulled her into his arms and let her hide her face in his shoulder. Ginny welcomed his warm embrace, clutching to the fabric of his shirt as she took deep breaths in a vain attempt to quash the tears that were threatening to break the surface. 

 

Aragorn didn’t say anything, just held her and let her cope with her emotions. He knew how to comfort her when she got like this, homesick and distraught. Many years back, when the Weasleys had first arrived in Middle Earth, Fred and George had tried to handle Ginny’s homesickness, but more often than not, their efforts would only trigger more memories for the witch, only making things worse. 

 

They'd try to joke with her, to make her smile, but it would never work. Thanks to their close friendship, Arwen was usually able to help her, but the task often fell to Aragorn when he and Ginny were on the road together. And so he simply held her. Ginny needed assurance that sometimes it was okay to cry and that she didn’t have to go through it alone. He didn’t need to say anything, just _be_ there for her. It took a few minutes, but Ginny eventually calmed down, her sniffling and shaking coming to a stop. She squirmed a little, and that was Aragorn’s cue to release her.

 

"Better?" he asked her, running one hand over her shoulder blades. She nodded, keeping her red eyes on the ground and rubbing at them to erase any evidence of what she saw as personal weakness.

 

" _Hannon-le,_ " she murmured. 

 

"You know it's nothing,” he said to her, lifting a hand to her chin to tilt her head up so he could see her face. She gave him a weak little smile and he ran a thumb across her cheek to wipe away a tear that managed to escape her tight hold on her emotions.

 

"Really though, thank you," she said seriously. The pair remained in the garden awhile longer, talking idly, but when Ginny started to yawn, Aragorn gently suggested that she head to bed. She nodded, that was a wonderful idea. She squeezed his hand and thanked him again for being there for her before retreating to her chambers for the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! If you liked it, let me know and if you didn't and are capable of expressing your opinions without sounding like a dick, tell me why.


	5. Assembly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With any great team, fellowship, or Ikea product, there's some assembly required.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still don't own Harry Potter or Lord of the Rings. If I did, you better believe I'd have the best tattoos money could buy.
> 
> Enjoy!

Two weeks had passed since Aragorn and the Weasleys’ return to Imladris. Since then, their lives had returned to their normal rhythm of piss one sibling off, get revenge, and so on. Their friendly war of playful sibling rivalry had resumed with fervor, pranks being pulled back and forth among the three. Merry and Pippin had gotten in on it as well, their mischievous natures lending themselves to Ginny’s and the twins’ schemes. 

 

Just yesterday, Merry and Pippin had helped Ginny steal all of George’s breeches and trousers while he was asleep and Ginny had then proceeded to shrink them and hide them deep in Lord Elrond’s library. Naturally George had retaliated and he did so by placing disillusionment charms on all of Ginny’s shoes and throwing them all over her floor for her to trip on. Ginny sighed to herself. Of all the days for her brother to do something to her _shoes_ of all things. 

 

Today was the day of Lord Elrond’s council where elves, men, dwarves, hobbits, wizards, and a witch would together decide the fate of the One Ring and ultimately, the fate of Middle Earth as they knew it. Ginny was to be present at the council but she had only found the left shoe that she had intended to wear today, the right shoe nowhere to be found. She sighed to herself and strode over to her mirror, cursing her brother when she tripped over _another_ shoe and angrily kicking it out of her way. 

 

She was dressed like a regular elf maiden in her midnight blue gown with her hair intricately braided and pulled away from her face. Her wand was stowed in a hidden bigger-on-the-inside pocket she’d added to the dress and when she appraised her appearance, she had to admit that she looked pretty good. That was, at least, until she lifted the skirt to reveal one foot in a flat slipper that matched the color of her gown and her other foot completely bare. She had tried everything to find that damn shoe, but George had gone and enchanted them so she couldn’t summon them. _Damn you, George, damn you and your damn pranks._ She scowled at her one bare foot. _Well, there’s only one solution, then._ Ginny kicked off the other shoe, leaving both of her feet blissfully bare but a little uncomfortable from the cold floor. She cast a mild warming charm on the soles of her feet and was scrutinizing her appearance yet again when she heard a knock on her door.

 

She crossed the room but stumbled again on another one of her damn shoes. Scowling at the disillusioned thing, she picked it up and forcefully opened the door to reveal Fred and George, the latter trying to contain his laughter. Ginny narrowed her eyes at him.

 

"Ready to go?" George asked her, a little smirk on his face. 

 

Ginny didn’t even dignify his question with a response, choosing to instead hit him over the head with her disillusioned shoe.

 

“ _Ready to go?”_ she mocked, lowering her voice to imitate her brother. She shook her head at him and pushed her way between her brothers, slamming the door behind her and striding down the hallway, her bare toes peeking out from under the hem of her long skirt with every step. The twins’ laughter followed behind her and even though she was pissed, she had a hard time not laughing herself. Instead, she drew her wand from her pocket and sent two langlock curses behind her to shut them up. When she heard their spluttering and hurried footsteps behind her, she smirked to herself. _Ha._ When they caught up to her, she removed the curses, satisfied with her revenge for the moment. She’d think of something better to do for George later, _after_ the council. 

 

They were almost at the courtyard where it would be held and Ginny subconsciously straightened her posture, holding herself with confidence and a certain regality. They reached the courtyard and as they entered the space, all heads turned in their direction. They were among the last to arrive. There was muttering and conversation, and Ginny noticed that most of it was accompanied with less than subtle glances her way.

 

"A woman?" the question reached Ginny's ears from all sides, and she had to suppress the urge to roll her eyes. _When would males of this world learn that females are just as capable as themselves?_ One of the Men in particular was scowling rather unpleasantly, Ginny thought, and his disapproving glare was burning a hole in her skull. She took a seat between two empty chairs and, never one to back down, turned to face the man. She returned his glare, raising an eyebrow at him until eventually, he got uncomfortable and turned away. Ginny smirked to herself in triumph.

 

A quick glance around the courtyard told her that nearly everyone was present. From her seat between Fred and an empty chair and two away from Mirkwood's prince, she observed the assembly. There were elves, men, and dwarves present, and despite their differences, they all looked upon Ginny with various levels of disdain and skepticism. However, she noted that the dwarves didn’t show as much hostility as the men or elves. Nor did some of what appeared to be themembers of the Mirkwood guard. 

 

Although, Ginny supposed that had something to do with a certain Captain of their Guard. She ought to find out how Tauriel was doing. When Ginny heard that a delegation from Mirkwood was on their way to Imladris, she had expected the stubborn and fiery elleth to be among them, but it seemed that that was not the case. Ginny had first met the elleth last March when she and Aragorn had delivered Gollum to Thranduil for safe-keeping and Ginny had not seen the Captain for about six months now. 

 

Ginny recognized a fair number of the people present - Frodo and Bilbo, Gandalf, Elrond, Elladan and Elrohir; Erestor too, was present, as was Glorfindel, and she had learned the previous night at the feast that an elf called Galdor had come from the Grey Havens. She did not recognize any of the men, but what she did recognize was the emblem of the White Tree of Gondor stamped into the leather bracers of the man who had glared at her. As for the dwarves, Bilbo had introduced Ginny to Glòin, and she suspected that the younger dwarf who sat beside him was the son that Glòin had spoken of so fondly at the feast. 

 

She was distracted from her observations when the last member of the council walked in and took the empty seat beside her. Ginny turned to give him a mildly curious and questioning look, but Aragorn just shook his head, wordlessly saying that it wasn't a big deal, but he would explain later. Lord Elrond then rose from his seat and cleared his throat, prompting Ginny and everyone present to redirect their attention towards the elf lord. 

 

After Lord Elrond called them to attention, Ginny's memory got a bit fuzzy. At least, her memory of the next hour or two. People all had plenty to say about the growing darkness of the world and how it was affecting their homes in particular - she and Aragorn made a statement about what was happening in the north, actually - but it all got a bit dull and repetitive after awhile. Honestly, it turned into a bit of a history lesson and just like when listening to Professor Binns so many years ago, Ginny found she was having trouble staying awake. 

 

It was when Glòin began to speak of a dark, hooded messenger that Ginny's ears began to perk up. She sat up straighter and listened intently as the dwarf told them of the messenger that Mordor had sent to Erebor, to speak with King Dáin. _Yes, and offering three dwarven rings of power and the entire realm of Moria in exchange for information about a hobbit called Baggins isn't suspicious at all,_ she thought dryly. 

 

Once Glòin finished his tale, Elrond launched into a history of the Ring. He spoke for what felt like all morning (in reality, it was more like an hour) going from when Sauron forged it up to the point where Isildur lost it. It was, frankly, a bit boring to Ginny, but she could see the value in knowing all this. At last, he arrived at what was happening presently and Ginny looked up when the elf lord paused for a moment. 

 

"Bring forth the Ring, Frodo,” he said commandingly, gesturing to the hobbit. Frodo timidly came forward, and reluctantly placed the Ring upon a pedestal in the center of the courtyard. As soon as Ginny saw the golden band, she could hear a foreign voice in her head. The voice was dark, distracting her from anything that may have been going on. Ginny barely registered Boromir, the son of Denethor, the steward of Gondor, rising from his seat and saying something about a dream and about Gondor and its fate. She tried to listen, she really did, but the Gondorian’s words were overshadowed by the voice of the Ring. It was telling her how she could use it, how she could use it to save Sirius and Dumbledore, go home to her family, defeat You-Know-Who, save the wizarding world. All she had to do was take it for herself- 

 

“/Ash nazg durbatuluk, ash nazg gimbatul!/” Gandalf’s voice thundered out of nowhere in the black speech, startling everyone present. “/Ash nazg thrakatuluk, agh burzum-ishi krimpatul!/" The words stopped the voice in Ginny’s head and brought her back out of her trance. She hadn’t even realized it, but she had been on the edge of her seat, hungrily staring at the Ring, but now she recoiled from it, her eyes full of nothing but hatred and disgust at both herself for falling under the Ring’s influence and the Ring for influencing her so.

 

"Never before has any voice uttered the words of that tongue here in Imladris!" Lord Elrond said angrily and almost incredulously.

 

"I do not ask your pardon, Master Elrond," Gandalf said gruffly, "for the black speech of Mordor may yet be heard in all corners of Middle Earth. The Ring is altogether evil," he said resolutely. Out of the corner of her eye, Ginny caught Boromir shaking his head.

 

"It is a gift. A gift to the foes of Mordor! Why _not_ use this Ring?” Boromir said. “Long has my father, the Steward of Gondor, kept the forces of Mordor at bay. By the blood of _our people_ are your lands kept safe!” he stressed. “Give Gondor the weapon of the enemy. Let us use it against him!" he argued, though Ginny couldn’t help but feel that it was an irrational idea. A glance at Aragorn’s face told her that he was thinking along the same lines as she was.

 

"First of all, it is not just your people keeping these lands safe," Ginny started. "The Dunedain have watched over the northern regions for centuries, protecting the people there and holding off the forces of darkness. They may not be my kin, but they are my people, nonetheless, and though we know it to be a thankless job, a little recognition wouldn't go amiss," she finished, her tone a bit bristly by the end of it. 

 

"As for the Ring," Aragorn spoke up, "you cannot wield it, none of us can,” he said, rebutting Boromir's proposition. "The One Ring answers to Sauron alone. It has no other master." 

 

"What would a ranger from the North and a woman know of such matters?" Boromir asked in return, and Ginny bristled at the condescending tone his voice took on when he said ‘ranger’ and ‘woman.’

 

"This is no mere ranger," Legolas said, rising to his feet and Aragorn’s defense before Ginny could. "This is Aragorn, son of Arathorn,” he said as though that explained everything. “You owe him your allegiance."

 

“This man? This is Isildur's heir?" Boromir asked, doubt clear in his voice and on his face.

 

"And heir to the throne of Gondor,” Ginny added, her voice taking on a vicious confidence, her steely glare fixed on Boromir in defense of her friend. That was, until she caught movement out of the corner of her eye and spotted the look Aragorn was giving her; silently asking that she _leave it alone, it does not matter._ Ginny pursed her lips, but sat back in her chair, resigning herself to dropping the issue as Aragorn wished, though Legolas didn't seem about to back down any time soon. 

 

" _Havo dad_ , Legolas,” Aragorn said to his friend, gesturing for him to sit down and Legolas reluctantly obeyed.

 

"But what of the woman?" Boromir said, turning to Ginny and commanding her attention. "You say you consider the Dunedain your people; are you too some long-lost royal? A lost lady of men, perhaps?" he asked rather mockingly. Ginny pursed her lips. Beside her, Fred and George looked ready to leap out of their seats to defend their sister, but Ginny put a stop to that with a shake of her head. 

 

_"Don't you dare,"_ she threatened her brothers in Sindarin before rising to her feet herself. 

 

"I am a guest in the house of Elrond, a person, same as you, and I would expect to see more respect from a Lord of Gondor such as yourself, Lord Boromir," she said rather testily, though she was proud of herself for keeping her shit together and _not_ hitting him with a langlock curse like she so desperately wanted to. "I'm Ginny, daughter of Arthur, and I'm no royal, not even a proper lady, really, but my years with the Dunedain and the fact that I call this man my chieftain-" at this, Ginny laid a hand on Aragorn's shoulder beside her- "grant me more than enough authority to speak on this subject. I am just as justified to be present at this council as the rest of you," Ginny went on, taking a few steps forward and now addressing the council as a whole. 

 

“A _woman,_ ” Boromir repeated with that same condescending tone. Ginny’s eyes flashed with anger as she whipped out her wand, hitting him with a nonverbal langlock curse. _So much for not cursing him,_ she thought to herself, shrugging inwardly. His eyes widened in panic and he spluttered in surprise when his tongue adhered itself to the roof of his mouth. 

 

“Is that supposed to be an insult?” Ginny asked him, taking on an eerie calm that had Fred, George, and Aragorn a little concerned for Boromir’s safety. “When you said ‘woman,’ did you mean weak? Silly? Stupid? Maybe incapable?” she asked. His face, the way his eyes hardened and his jaw set, told her all she needed to know. “I will have you know, Boromir, son of Denethor, that yeah, I might not have a dick,” she said, ignoring the reactions to her coarse language, “but that does not mean that I am weak, silly, or incapable. I’m a fighter, and if you, or anyone, for that matter,” she added, throwing glares around the assembled council, “thinks I’m just going to stand by while you judge me by what’s between my legs, you have another think coming.

 

“A _woman,_ ” she muttered to herself. Ginny looked back up at the man in front of her and met his eyes with a dangerous glare. 

 

“I will remove that curse I cast on you, but know that if you judge me like that again, you won’t be able to talk for a month,” she said. She turned her back on him and returned to her seat, flicking her wrist and removing the langlock curse as she went. For a few moments, there was absolute silence while the assembly regarded Ginny in a new light. Some seemed frightened, some impressed, a few were damn proud, and others a bit scandalized. Finally, Gandalf broke the silence. 

 

“Lord Aragorn and Lady Ginevra are right,” he said. “We cannot use it."

 

_Ginny. Not Ginevra, Ginny. Dear Merlin, old man,_ said witch thought to herself. 

 

Elrond nodded gravely. "You have but one choice,” he began, “the Ring must be destroyed,” he said, surveying the room.

 

"Then what are we waiting for?" asked one of the dwarves. He got to his feet and hefted his large battle axe, bringing it down solidly upon the Ring. When the axe and Ring collided, a loud noise emanated from the golden band, similar to the screech of the Nazgûl - piercing and high - but at the same time, it rumbled through the courtyard, sending low vibrations through the stone. Ginny instinctively winced and turned from the pedestal, and when she turned back, it was to see a disheveled dwarf sprawled out on the ground, a perfectly intact Ring, and a shattered axe.

 

"The Ring cannot be destroyed, Gimli son of Glóin, by any craft we here possess. The Ring was made in the fires of Mount Doom,” Elrond explained, "only there can it be unmade. It must be taken deep into Mordor and cast back into the fiery chasm from whence it came,” he said.

 

"One of you must do this." 

 

The courtyard fell silent once more and Ginny stole a look at her brothers. The pair of them wore uncharacteristically stoic and serious faces and Ginny could practically _see_ the wheels turning in their minds. She turned back to the assembly to see Boromir opening his mouth again and it nearly took all her willpower not to scowl at him. She quashed that impulse and listened.

 

"One does not simply walk into Mordor,” he declared. "Its black gates are guarded by more than just Orcs. There is evil there that does not sleep, and the great Eye is ever watchful,” he said. "It is a barren wasteland, riddled with fire, ash, and dust. The very air you breathe is a poisonous fume,” he explained. "Not with ten _thousand_ men could you do this. It is folly."

 

Ginny pursed her lips in disapproval at his words. _Really? You’re just gonna dismiss it like that? It can’t be impossible,_ Ginny reasoned, _otherwise Elrond wouldn’t have suggested it. Sure it’s dangerous, it’d be stupid to assume otherwise._ Ginny found that instead of being scared, like Boromir had probably intended, she was determined to prove him wrong. She recognized a part of herself taking his words as a challenge. _Folly?_ Ginny thought to herself. _We’ll see about that._ Out of nowhere, Ginny heard her mother’s cautionary voice in her head telling her to _‘stop being so reckless,’_ she’ll get herself hurt if she’s not careful. 

 

Ginny smiled a little to herself. _Mum would’ve been right with me on this,_ she thought, and she knew it was true. Her mum may have been a worrier, but she wouldn’t have stood for this, no more than Ginny herself. She was positive that if her mother was in her situation, she would’ve taken the Gondorian’s words the same way she did. Her thoughts were still on her mum and the woman’s determined nature, but Ginny was jerked out of her head by raised voices.

 

“-I will be dead before I see the Ring in the hands of an Elf!" roared the dwarf who’d tried to cleave the Ring in two, Gimli. Ginny watched as elves jumped to their feet, held back from the dwarves by their prince, and dwarves got as much in their faces as they could. It wasn’t long before the men got to their feet as well, joining in the arguments, yelling and shouting at one another. Gandalf tried to intervene, only to get into a heated debate with Boromir. When one of his men insulted the wizard, Fred and George joined the fray to defend their mentor.

 

Ginny sighed to herself and slumped back in her chair. _And they call themselves mature adults,_ she thought to herself. She shook her head at them. It was absolutely ridiculous. She understood that a lot of the hostility was coming from the Ring’s influence, but that was still no excuse for their behavior. Ginny turned to Aragorn, who was one of the few who hadn't left his seat. She rolled her eyes at the arguing mass, earning herself a small grin from him. She grinned back, but her attention was diverted when she heard a rustling noise behind her in the bushes. Puzzled and curious, she quickly cast a _Homonum Revelio_ charm on the general area and sure enough, there were three people hiding there. _Hobbits,_ Ginny thought, _it has to be._ _Only those hobbits would be so foolish._ Ginny noticed the noise dying down, the arguments settled or at least paused, and a small voice reached her ears.

 

"I will take the Ring to Mordor!" Frodo Baggins exclaimed. "Though I do not know the way.” 

 

_Well, shit._ Ginny couldn’t let him just go on his own, and she would be damned if she backed down from Boromir’s challenge, even if he hadn’t intended it as one. She was going to Mordor. In the middle of the courtyard, Gandalf took a step towards the hobbit, everyone’s eyes following him. The Istar placed a hand on Frodo's shoulder. 

 

"I will help you bear this burden, Frodo Baggins, as long as it is yours to bear,” he said.

 

Ginny glanced at her brothers and the determination in her eyes was enough to inform them of her decision and when she got to her feet, Fred and George joined her in front of Frodo.

 

“Frodo, I’m not about to let you do this on your own. I don’t know about my brothers, but I’m coming with you,” she said, giving the hobbit a little smile, which he returned a bit nervously. (Alternatively: "Many years ago, a dead man told me that I would have a part to play in bringing peace to this world. I don't know if he knew something I didn't or if he was just off his rocker, but I have looked out for you, Frodo, and if you'll have me, I'll continue to do so," Ginny said, kneeling in front of the hobbit and giving him a gentle smile.)

 

“We’re right with you, Gin, Frodo,” George said, speaking for himself and Fred.

 

“We’ll do everything we can to help you,” Fred agreed. Ginny noticed Aragorn approaching Frodo as well and stepped aside, her brothers following her lead. 

 

“If by my life or death I can protect you, I will,” Aragorn said, kneeling before the hobbit. “You have my sword.”

 

“And my bow,” Legolas added as he too joined their quickly growing party.

 

“And _my axe_ ,” Gimli pledged himself, joining them as well.

 

“You carry the fate of us all, little one,” Boromir said as he too approached Frodo. “If it is indeed the will of the council, Gondor will see it done,” he said. 

 

“Hey!” shouted a voice from outside the courtyard, startling the assembled council. The shout was followed by running footsteps, and it wasn’t long before Sam Gamgee skidded into the courtyard, stopping at Frodo’s side.

 

"Mr. Frodo's not goin' anywhere without me!" Sam proclaimed.

 

"No indeed, it is hardly possible to separate you even when he is summoned to a secret council and you are not," Elrond said pointedly. Sam looked down at his feet with a little bit of embarrassment, but he didn’t budge. Suddenly, two more hobbits, Merry and Pippin, peeked their heads into the courtyard

 

"Oi! We're coming, too!" shouted Merry as he and Pippin darted over to Frodo, "You'd have to send us home tied up in a sack to stop us!" 

 

"After all, you need people of intelligence on this sort of mission- quest- _thing_ ,” Pippin said, finally settling on a word for whatever it was they were setting out on. Ginny grinned to herself. She’d been right about the hobbits listening in.

 

"Well, that rules you out, Pip,” Merry said, but not unkindly. Out of the corner of her eye, Ginny saw Fred grinning at their antics. _Oh, Merlin help us,_ two _sets of them._

 

"Twelve companions," Elrond said, pausing to look them over. "So be it. You shall be the Fellowship of the Ring.” A certain quiet settled over them following his words, most of those present lost in one thought or another.

 

"Great!" Pippin said, breaking the silence. "Where're we going?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Also, I promise I love Boromir, he is my child and my son and I love him so, so much, but at the same time I think that because of how he was raised and the culture he lives in he would have some difficulty accepting the whole woman-going-into-battle thing. I promise he gets better.


	6. Departure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Plans are made, conversations are had, and the Fellowship of the Ring departs from Rivendell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again, lovely readers, I present to you, chapter six.
> 
> I still don't own Harry Potter or Lord of the Rings. If I did, I'd own an actual leather jacket.
> 
> Enjoy!

The days and weeks following the council were full of planning and preparation while they waited for scouts to return with word on the Nine. The warriors of the fellowship took time to refine and hone their skills while teaching those who were less learned. Gandalf and Aragorn spent hours poring over maps and routes, while Fred and George were quick to both befriend and mess with the other members of the fellowship. Merry and Pippin had bonded quickly with the twins, their love for mischief uniting them in friendship. One day, not long after the council, Fred and George took the two hobbits to the training grounds, only to find Boromir already there. The Gondorian captain was practicing his swordplay on his own, but stopped when he saw the foursome approaching.

 

“Greetings, friends,” he said amicably. The twins and the hobbits responded in kind. “Forgive me, but I did not catch your names at the council,” Boromir said to the twins. The pair of them exchanged a look and shared identical grins.

 

“Nothing to forgive,” George began. “I’m Fred,” he falsely introduced himself, sending the hobbits a quick look, trying to tell them not to correct him. Mercifully, Merry got the message and stepped on Pippin’s foot before he could say anything.

 

“And I’m George,” Fred continued. “We’re pleased to properly meet you, son of Denethor,” he said, all propriety and manners, leaving the Gondorian man none the wiser to what they’d just pulled on him. Both extended their hands for Boromir to shake, and he did so in turn. They chatted for awhile, but were soon interrupted. 

 

“Oi! Fred, Georgie,” came Ginny’s voice from just outside the training grounds. 

 

“Yeah?” they responded in unison, turning towards their sister’s voice to see her striding up the path with purpose.

 

“You two up for a duel?” she asked them with a grin, pointedly ignoring the look on Boromir’s face that belied his discontent with her. Her brothers grinned back at her, drawing their wands in response. “Mind if we use the training field?” she asked Boromir out of politeness, but not leaving him much room for argument. To his credit, Boromir agreed without much reluctance, and stood aside with the hobbits while the three Weasleys took places on the training ground.

 

“Which rules are we going with?” Fred asked his siblings.

 

“Wands only, and no permanent disfigurement?” Ginny suggested. Her brothers nodded in agreement. 

 

They all bowed to each other as was customary for dueling back in Britain - old habits die hard - and took a few steps back from each other, wands raised. 

 

"Care to give us a count-down, Merry?" Ginny asked the hobbit, never taking her eyes off her brothers. 

 

"Mm-hmm," Merry hummed his agreement through a mouthful of apple. He swallowed his bite and cleared his throat. "Five, four, three, two, one!" he said, and the Weasleys sprang into action. 

 

Immediately, Ginny began throwing spells at her brothers - stunners, leg-lockers, bat-bogeys, and the like - forcing them to focus on defending themselves. She hit Fred with a tarantallegra and watched with a grin as George tried to help his brother without getting kicked. She heard loud laughter from the hobbits and even a chuckle from Boromir. She risked a moment to turn around and flash a mischievous grin at them and when she turned back, George was casting the counterspell and Fred's legs stopped moving. Ginny raised her wand but instead of attacking, she had to put up a shield to deflect a jinx from George. 

 

Her brothers attacked her with a vengeance and with teamwork that only came from sharing a womb. It took all of Ginny's concentration and effort to deflect their spells, let alone get in any herself. She danced out of the way of a leg-locker curse and took that moment to send an expelliarmus George's way. Miraculously, it hit, and George's wand flew out of his hand and fell somewhere outside the training field. George gracefully backed out of the duel, having been eliminated now according to their house rules and went to join Merry, Pippin, and Boromir on the sideline. 

 

Ginny and Fred exchanged spells and shields until Ginny conjured a flock of birds to attack her brother.She almost won the duel there but in the flurry of little birds pecking at Fred, she was unable to get a clear shot and he somehow managed to transfigure them into sand. The little grains of sand fell around him, and in her shock, Ginny failed to defend herself in time and Fred hit her with a petrificus totalus, sending her falling to the ground with legs and arms snapped tightly together. Fred whooped in victory and George applauded his win, prompting the hobbits to do the same. Fred gave an overly dramatic bow with a wide grin. He then returned to his sister. 

 

"Finite," he said, pointing his wand at her petrified form. The spell took affect and she relaxed, sitting up and shaking her limbs a little to remove the residual stiffness. 

 

"Good game," she said, looking up at Fred. She extended a hand up to him in a silent question and he helped her to her feet with a pull. "And really nice transfiguration by the way," she said once she was standing as she brushed the dirt off her arms.

 

"Same to you with those birds," George said from the side. Ginny grinned. 

 

"Thanks," she said. 

 

"That was an impressive fight," Boromir said, drawing their attention. "You are all very skilled in this manner of combat," he said. 

 

Ginny thanked him with as much detached respect as she could muster before retreating into the armory to fetch a target for some archery practice.

 

* * *

 

The following days were full of conversations. Ginny talked with Legolas, asked him about his father and his realm. The last she’d seen of the place was when she and Aragorn had delivered the creature Gollum to King Thranduil and honestly, she hadn’t thought much of the forest. However, she knew how to be respectful and make small talk, so she did so. She figured that she might as well _try_ to forge good relationships with the people she’d be traveling with for the next few months.

 

She found Gimli in one of the more secluded gardens, talking with his father and Bilbo Baggins. Ginny overheard the dwarves telling the old hobbit about Erebor. She had heard Bilbo’s story about three times now, all from Bilbo himself, and she was pretty sure that Gimli’s father, Gloin if she remembered correctly, was one of the dwarves in that company of fourteen. She sat with them for awhile, listening to cheerful stories about cousins long gone from the world and dwarves with penchants for sweaters and funny hats. 

 

Ginny spent hours practicing her archery beside Legolas and Aragorn, throwing axes with Gimli, and dueling with her brothers. She gave the hobbits a few crash courses in swordplay, before letting her brothers take over that quest. There were a few funny moments where the twins pulled the whole “he’s not Fred, I am!” bit on Boromir, and Ginny would be lying to herself it she thought she hadn’t laughed whole-heartedly at it all. Finally, she took pity on the Gondorian captain and clarified for him which twin was which (you could tell from the large freckle on Fred’s nose), and since then, she had noticed that Boromir had had the tiniest bit more respect for her. 

 

She sat in on a few planning sessions with Aragorn, Legolas, Boromir, and Gandalf, mostly listening as Aragorn and Boromir argued over which route to take. _Well, not really argued,_ Ginny thought to herself, _it was more like Boromir saying why he was right and why we should do what he says and Aragorn shutting him down with two to three syllables._ It gave her a headache.

 

* * *

 

Finally, the day came for the Fellowship to depart from Imladris. Ginny rose early that morning to get ready, and after a quick breakfast and a luxurious bath, she checked over her packing once again. Her bedroll, travel rations, and healing supplies were all accounted for, and a small pocket with an undetectable extension charm placed on it was full of other extra necessities. Satisfied with what she had, Ginny closed up her rucksack and crossed her room to her wardrobe. 

 

Ginny pulled out her comfortably worn travel clothes and took them behind her changing screen, where she slipped on the breeches and shirt over her undergarments. The dark blue shirt was comfortably soft to the touch, as were the dark brown breeches that were belted low on Ginny's hips. Ginny never knew how they did it, but the elves who had made these clothes for her had done so incredibly masterfully. In all the years she'd worn them on the road, they had only ever ripped once. Ginny emerged from behind her changing screen and as she walked she began threading her fingers through her hair, quickly weaving it into a single braid. 

 

She sat at the foot of her bed to pull on her leather boots and then stood to tuck in her shirt. She snatched up her leather jerkin from where it had ended up on the floor and shrugged it on over her shoulders, making quick work of the buckled fastenings in front. She then sheathed her larger knife in the scabbard on her belt, her two daggers in her boots, and concealed her smallest blade beneath her shirt. After strapping her sword to her hip and quiver to her back, she stuffed her wand in the holster on her thigh. Ginny glanced at herself in the mirror. A strong and hardy warrior smirked back at her from the glass. She draped her traveling cloak over her shoulders and swung her rucksack over one shoulder. Taking a deep breath and one last look over the room, she left and closed the door behind her. 

 

Time to go. 

 

Ginny walked alone through the halls of Rivendell. She'd been aiming for the courtyard where the Fellowship would be leaving from, but her feet and preoccupied mind had other ideas. Ginny knew that she was fully invested in this quest, but there was a niggling voice in the back of her head that was planting little worries and doubts. 

 

_What if I'm not strong enough to resist the Ring?_ she asked herself as she wandered. _It was so tempting at the council -_ the voice she'd heard replayed in her head - _“You can save them, you can save them all” -_ but Ginny stubbornly forced it down. _Even if I could save them, the war is probably over by now,_ she reasoned, _at least, if time works the same here as it does back in England._

 

Up ahead of her, in one of the more secluded gardens, Ginny spotted a head of long, dark hair. She approached the figure and when she got closer, she saw that it was Arwen. As she got closer, she noticed that she had her hands folded in her lap, her eyes fixed on something she was fiddling with. 

 

"Arwen?" Ginny said as she entered the garden. The elleth who had grown to be a sister to Ginny looked up sharply, apparently startled by her presence. That had Ginny worried - if she'd been able to unintentionally sneak up on her like that, there was most likely something heavy on her mind. 

 

"You okay?" Ginny asked softly, coming over to sit beside her. She started to answer, but closed her mouth quickly and shook her head, looking back down at her hands and letting her hair fall to hide her face. Ginny knew that tactic. Ginny knew that move all too well - she'd used her hair to hide a teary or distressed face more times than she could count. 

 

"No, hey, what's wrong?" Ginny asked her, taking her hand in her own and gently prying whatever she was fiddling with from her grip. It was Arwen's pendant, the Evenstar. The metal and crystal was warm in her hands and shone brightly in the morning light. 

 

"Today is the last that I will ever see of you, your brothers, and Estel. I am losing half of my family today," she said. "You are my _sister_ ," Arwen stressed, "and they are my brothers, no matter who your fathers and mothers are," she said. Ginny understood completely and it hurt to think that she would never see her sister again. Even if Ginny did survive this Quest, Arwen would not be here to welcome her home. She was going into the west and sailing to Valinor, where her mortal family could not follow. It was a hard truth for Ginny to swallow, but seeing Arwen - her strong, tough, and graceful sister - like this, Ginny knew that she had to tough it out and be strong for her. 

 

"Arwen," she started, swallowing a lump in her throat, "even if we weren't leaving today, we couldn't follow you into Valinor," she said sadly. "I might live longer than most other humans thanks to my magic, but I'm still mortal, so are Fred, George, and Aragorn. We'd have to say goodbye sooner or later," she said, hating herself for having to say it. Arwen nodded. She too knew that it was true. 

 

"I will miss you, Ginny," she said tearfully. Ginny herself was fighting back tears. She took Arwen's hands and placed the Evenstar in her palm before pulling her into a tight hug that the elleth returned immediately. “Promise me you will not perish on this quest?” she said into Ginny’s shoulder. Ginny nodded.

 

“Promise,” she said. The two sisters let go of each other and Ginny tactfully pretended that she didn’t see Arwen wiping at her eyes. Ginny gently rubbed small circles on her back in an attempt to comfort her a little. “Besides,” she said, “have you even seen who’s coming with me?” she asked, trying to lighten the mood. She heard Arwen laugh a little, though it was still thick with emotion. Finally, she looked up and met Ginny’s eyes. “Do you really think that Gandalf, my brothers, or Aragorn would let anything happen to me?” she asked, _not that I need them to protect me,_ she added in her head. Arwen shook her head and gave her a shaky smile.

 

"You are right,” Arwen agreed, “Fred and George are so protective of you, they love you so. Whenever you go back out on the road, they’re always anxious for you to return safely, no matter how they try to hide it,” she said. “And, you know,” she continued, "Aragorn is fond of you as well. He cares for you,” she said in a tone that Ginny found a little odd, and she was admittedly puzzled by what she meant. Of course he cared about her, that was obvious, did she mean- _no, no she can’t mean like that,_ Ginny realized, and judging by Arwen’s reaction, Ginny’s realization had shown on her face. 

 

“Well yeah, and I care about him too,” Ginny said, and Arwen grinned knowingly in response. “Not like _that_ ,” Ginny quickly protested, “but we watch out for each other,” she said, but Arwen’s expression had only gone from knowing to downright conspiratorial. Ginny sighed and rolled her eyes at the woman beside her. 

 

_Aragorn is my friend, and nothing more,_ she thought stubbornly, and if she had anything to say about it, it would stay that way. Even if she did feel that way about him, _which she didn’t,_ Ginny was quick to tell herself, she wasn’t ready for anything like a relationship, even ten years after her last one. Taking note of the position of the sun and guessing at the time, Ginny got to her feet and Arwen followed her lead. The two of them linked arms and just walked together in silence, leaving the gardens and making their way to the courtyard where the rest of the Fellowship was beginning to arrive.

 

Fred and George were already there when Ginny and Arwen set foot in the courtyard, and Boromir arrived shortly after. It wasn’t long before the hobbits showed up as well, Sam leading Bill the pony behind him. The time in Rivendell had done the pony good - he had grown healthy and strong under the elves’ care. After the hobbits, Gimli joined the group, closely followed by Legolas and Aragorn. The latter came up to the two women and taking in his foster sister’s sad face, he drew her into a hug. Fred and George joined them and they too took their turns saying goodbye to Arwen. It wasn’t long before Elladan and Elrohir had joined them too, both of them hugging Ginny and clasping forearms with Fred, George, and Aragorn. It was finally starting to sink in for Ginny. _She would never get to see them again,_ she realized. 

 

While they were saying their goodbyes, Gandalf and Lord Elrond arrived in the courtyard and a cough from the old wizard broke the mismatched family out of their conversation and drew their attention. With just a nod, Gandalf conveyed to them that it was time to go. They nodded in understanding. Ginny hugged Arwen one last time, stubbornly blinking back tears, and then with a sad smile at her foster siblings, went to join the Fellowship at the gate. She took a place between Aragorn and Fred and her brother squeezed her hand comfortingly. Ginny squeezed back and then dropped his hand. She was going to be okay, she told herself as she looked up at Lord Elrond, ready to listen.

 

“The Ring-bearer is setting out on the Quest of Mount Doom,” he said simply. “On you who travel with him, no oath nor bond is laid to go farther than you will,” he sated, his eyes scanning the fellowship and lingering awhile longer on Gimli and Boromir. “Farewell. Hold to your purpose.” Ginny took a deep breath. This was really happening, this was really goodbye. “May the blessings of Elves and Men and all free folk go with you.”

 

Aragorn, Legolas, and the Weasleys all bowed to Elrond in a respectful farewell before they turned away from comfort and safety in favor of the unknown. Gandalf and Frodo led their way out of the city, but before they were out of sight, Ginny turned back one last time to the home she had found here. She could hardly bear this - leaving behind the family she had found. They had taken her in, cared for her, and befriended her. Her eyes were starting to well up again, but she stubbornly forced the tears back. She wasn’t going to be weepy. She was going to be strong if it was the last thing she did.

 

She could cry when she was alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, real talk now. see the thing is, I started writing this story a long-ass time ago, like, almost three years ago, long-ass time ago. I was a shitty writer, but I posted my crap on ffn anyway. So, on fanfiction.net, I have the whole story, under the same title and author name, but it's much rougher around the edges. If you want to read the rest of what I have, head on over there! 
> 
> Thanks for reading! If you liked it, tell me why in a comment or drop me a kudos!


	7. En Route

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crebain and stubborn wizards and snow storms, oh my.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo, I'm here and I'm back with another chapter! I've finally gotten back to editing these monstrosities that I was once proud of and I can say that I'm pretty happy with what I've done with this one. Funny story, this chapter used to be two in their original versions. 
> 
> Still don't own Harry Potter or Lord of the Rings. If I did, I would definitely have a replica of Anduril on my wall.
> 
> Enjoy!

For the first week or so, the Fellowship traveled by night and slept by day. The dark and cold was miserable, and the light made it near impossible to sleep. They couldn’t talk all that much while they traveled for fear of drawing attention of Merlin only knew what, and whenever they did get a little too loud, Gandalf would bark at them to shut up, if not in so many words. So, they plodded along in the dark, one foot at a time, until the sun started to come up, whereupon they would find a place to make camp. 

 

Every morning, which Ginny still found incredibly weird, they would lay out their bedrolls and take their rest. Ginny, Fred, and George would put up protection wards around the campsite - invisibility charms, silence spells, and repelling wards among other things - and then someone would take their turn for first watch. It only took two days of traveling like that for Fred and George to start angling for a more natural schedule, but Gandalf wouldn’t have any of it. He was dead set on the plan he had concocted and for the time being, that plan included moving at night and sleeping during the day. 

 

On the fifth day of their trip, it was Ginny’s turn to take the first watch. She and her brothers put up the wards and she watched forlornly as the rest of her companions went to sleep. At least keeping watch was easier with the sun up, she supposed. Normally, she absolutely hated taking the first watch. It was difficult to stay awake and she was oftentimes just a little bit too tired to be as vigilant as she should be. Ginny watched as the others tossed and turned, trying to get comfortable enough to drift off to sleep.

 

She sat there for hours, staring off into the distance, trying in vain to keep awake and alert. There was hardly anything for her to even watch out for, unless she counted the eagle that flew overhead an hour into her watch. Once her two hours were up, she roused Gimli for his turn and collapsed onto her bedroll, sleeping almost soundly in spite of the bright sunlight. 

 

Once they reached open plain, Gandalf finally agreed to their pleas for a more natural schedule, traveling by day instead. They trekked across the land, moving south around the Misty Mountains.

 

Another few days later, they were stopped on a rocky outcropping for lunch and rest. Merry and Pippin had eaten quickly, and now Boromir was helping them with their swordplay. A few days into their journey, Ginny had apologized for losing her temper at the council and slowly but surely, she and Boromir were growing to be more civil towards one another. 

 

Meanwhile, Fred ad George were chatting with Gimli and Gandalf, discussing the plan; where to go from there and which path to take. Gimli wanted to go through the Mines of Moria, Boromir wanted to take the Gap of Rohan and make for Gondor, and Gandalf wanted to continue on their present route. Privately, the twins wanted to just apparate everyone, or at least Frodo, to Mount Doom to get this all over with, but they knew it would never happen. There would certainly be too many wads on Mordor’s borders for them to even attempt it. As the dwarf and the wizards talked and Boromir worked with the mischievous hobbits, Legolas was keeping watch, Sam was eating with Frodo, and Ginny and Aragorn were watching the sword lessons.

 

"Be quick and agile," Ginny interjected to Merry, who Boromir was teaching at the moment. "Use movement when you are facing a stronger opponent." It was a tactic she used often, especially since her opponents tended to underestimate her. Aragorn nodded in agreement. Merry tried to duck under a swing from Boromir, but was keeping his feet firmly planted on the ground.

 

"Move your feet," Aragorn barked. Merry nodded to show that he'd heard, and next time Boromir swung at him, he stepped out of the way. Ginny smiled and nodded in approval. Their little duel was going well, but then Pippin joined in and Boromir accidentally nicked him on the wrist. The man started to apologize, but before he could get the words out of his mouth, Merry and Pippin charged at him, tackling him to the ground.

 

"For the Shire!" Merry shouted over their laughter as they wrestled. Ginny saw smiles on all three faces, and couldn't help the one that grew on her own face. Their antics reminded her of happier and simpler times back home when her brothers would do the same. One of her earliest memories was watching the twins and Percy wrestling in the garden with Bill and Charlie, who were supposed to be showing them how to de-gnome said garden. 

 

Returning to the present, Ginny watched as Merry and Pippin put up an impressive fight, teaming up against the large man. It wasn’t long before Fred and George jumped into the fray, both of them wearing wide grins. What Ginny wouldn’t give for a camera. Somehow, Boromir managed to extract himself from the tangle, and he sprung up to his feet, coming over to stand by Ginny, a safe distance away from the flailing limbs.

 

“Had enough?” Ginny asked lightly. Boromir shrugged.

 

“I am not as young as I once was,” he said. “My brother and I would wrestle when we were boys, but we have long outgrown those games.” That was perhaps the most that Boromir had ever said to Ginny about his life, and she was surprised.

 

“Really? Because I know a pair of elf twins who are thousands of years old and still try to get each other into headlocks,” she said, recalling Elladan and Elrohir’s antics. Boromir looked down at his feet, but Ginny could see a small smile.

 

“No, perhaps not,” he said. “But I think that might just be the nature of brothers.” Ginny nodded in agreement. If her brothers were any sort of norm, then that sure as hell was true. They turned their attention back towards the wrestling match and watched as Aragorn tried to break it up, only to be pulled in - _by the ankle_ \- by Fred. Ginny burst out laughing at the sight, and Boromir was chuckling as well. It was a bit strange to hear so much laughter at once, but it was a good kind of strange. The past few weeks had been so damn serious.

 

However, as it happens with all things, this joyful moment had to come to an end, and it was a rather abrupt one.

 

"What's that?" Sam asked, looking up at the sky. The lighthearted wrestling match ended, and all the participants stood and followed Sam's gaze along with the rest of their companions. What they saw was something grey and rippling in the sky, close to the color of a storm cloud.

 

"Nothing, just a wisp of cloud," said Gimli, who wasn't even paying proper attention to what was happening. Ginny took another look at the mass. It was larger now, and moved in a direction different from the clouds. It was darker than before, and she could see a little bit of rippling at the edges. 

 

"It's moving fast," George started.

 

"And against the wind," Fred finished.

 

Ginny nodded along with her brothers absently. They were right. She started to get shivers up and down her spine the longer she stared at the thing.

 

"Crebain! From Dunland!" Legolas shouted, finally identifying the mysterious mass. 

 

_Shit_.

 

“Hide!” Aragorn yelled at them. The Fellowship was quick to obey and there was a mad scramble as they snatched up belongings and covered their tracks. They were all frantically trying to take cover from the crows of Isengard, under bushes and under boulders. Ginny grabbed two rucksacks, she wasn't sure who they belonged to, it didn't matter, and she slung them over her shoulders. 

 

She searched frantically for a hiding place and spotted one - a small ledge under a rock, partially hidden by a shrub. Ginny dove into the small space and held her breath as she waited for the Crebain to pass over them. Their caws were deafening and the wind from their beating wings was frighteningly strong. They circled for what felt like an eternity until finally the noise started to die down. Even once they were gone, no more cawing, no more wingbeats, the Fellowship remained hidden for a few minutes longer. They were not going to be taking any chances. Finally, Legolas’s voice sounded, telling them that it was safe to come out, the Crebain had passed. 

 

Ginny crawled out of her hiding place, the two rucksacks still on her back. She took a moment to stretch her back and her arms, which had been quite constricted in the tight space under that damn rock. As she approached the rest of their company, she rolled her neck and heard a few pops of her vertebrae realigning themselves. Once she reached the others, Merry and Pippin came up to her, taking back the rucksacks that were apparently theirs. Remembering that she didn’t have all of her things herself, Ginny scanned her companions to see who had gathered her things for her. It wouldn’t be much, the only things she hadn’t had on her person were her bow and quiver, and she found them in the hands of Gimli. She took them gratefully and strapped her quiver to her back stuffing her bow inside. 

 

Once all of their belongings had been redistributed, Gandalf gathered the group together and quieted them down.

 

“The road south is being watched,” the grey wizard said solemnly, “we cannot continue on that road. We must take the pass of Caradhras.” 

 

Ginny raised an eyebrow at that. _Really? Are you kidding right now?_  Gandalf was finally losing it. That was the only explanation. Did he seriously think they’d make it over that godforsaken peak? They’d get frostbite before they were even halfway up. Yeah, they might make it, but there would definitely be some fingers, toes, ears, noses, or even limbs that they left behind in the snow. Sure, Ginny and her brothers might be able to do something with magic to help them out, but warming charms could only go so far. Ginny could only gape at Gandalf as he turned to look at the white-capped peaks of the Misty Mountains. She shook her head in disbelief. This was _not_ going to end well, she was calling it now. 

 

* * *

 

Ginny absolutely despised snow. She fucking hated it. It was cold and wet and impossible to walk through and she fucking _hated_ it. 

 

Despite all their protests, the Fellowship had been unable to sway Gandalf in his decision regarding their route. He was adamant. They were going to climb Caradhras whether they liked it or not and they most certainly did _not_ like climbing that godforsaken rock. It was fucking _freezing_ and no matter what they did, they couldn’t get warm. The biting wind cut through their clothing and the blowing snow caught in their hair and in their cloaks. Ginny, Fred, and George tried warming charms, they tried conjuring up scarves and hats, they even tried shield charms to block the wind, but nothing helped. 

 

So Ginny stuffed her hands under her armpits and tucked her chin down into her chest to conserve what little body heat she had. It didn’t help that her back was still wet from their little snowball fight earlier.

 

* * *

 

_Ginny felt something wet and cold slam into her back, right between her shoulder blades. She tried to reach back to see what hit her and when she drew her hand away, there were little bits of packed snow clinging to her gloved fingertips. She turned around to face her attacker and saw Fred’s mischievous face grinning back at her. She snarled. Fred blanched._

 

_It was amazing how much she resembled their mother when she was angry._

 

_Ginny growled at him and bent down to pick up a handful of snow, packing it into a snowball of her own. Now Fred was scared. There was a reason why his sister had been one of Gryffindor’s best chasers._

 

_She threw the chilly missile with practiced speed and accuracy and it made contact with Fred’s frightened face. Once he wiped the snow out of his eyes, it was to see his sister smirking back at him, most traces of her anger gone._

 

_“Oh, it’s on,” he said with a smirk. He packed another snowball and tried to throw it at his sister but missed, hitting Pippin instead. The youngest hobbit of their fellowship turned to see Fred trying very hard to look innocent and failing miserably. Pippin nudged Merry, and soon the two of them had snowballs of their own, each of them aiming for a Weasley twin. They threw with impressive accuracy and George was hit, but Fred dodged the one meant for him and instead it nailed Gimli right in his beard._

 

_Soon Legolas, Aragorn, and even Boromir got roped into the fight and snowballs were flying through the air, accompanied by laughter and cries of indignation._

 

_Ginny managed to extract herself from the fray to stand beside Gandalf, the only safe place seeing as no one had the balls to aim for the Istar. Things calmed down after awhile and they continued on their way, though they were all considerably more soggy._

 

* * *

 

Since then, they had come far from the lower place on the mountain where they’d had their little play fight. No, now they were nearly half way up the mountain and it looked like the snow was going to get worse.

 

Ginny walked close to the front of their company: beside George and behind Gandalf. They plodded along, fighting through the deep snow, when she heard a cry from the back. She turned back to see Frodo sprawled in the snow, being helped up by Aragorn. Frodo reached for his neck and upon realizing something, began to frantically search for something, bordering on panic. _Damn it, the Ring,_ Ginny realized. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a flicker of motion; Boromir bent down to pick something up from the snow.

 

He straightened up and there was something in his hand - a silver chain with a golden ring hanging from it. The man said something, Ginny couldn’t quite hear whatever it was over the wind, but judging by Aragorn’s reaction it couldn’t have been anything good.

 

“Boromir!” he said loudly. He didn’t respond.

 

“Boromir!” he tried again, this time gaining the man’s attention. “Give the Ring to Frodo,” he said firmly. Boromir reluctantly approached the hobbit and handed it over. Frodo was quick to snatch it out of his grip and slip the chain back over his head. Boromir ruffled Frodo’s hair and Ginny thought she heard something resembling a chuckle from him before he turned back to the Fellowship to continue their trek.

 

Ginny noticed Aragorn’s hand leaving the hilt of his sword and was a bit shocked to realize that her own hand was poised over the handle of her wand. She shook herself a bit and returned her attention to walking.

 

As they traveled, the snow only got deeper. It got to the point where the Hobbits could barely even walk; they had to resort to carrying them so they wouldn’t fall. Each of the four men had a hobbit on his back while Ginny, Gandalf, and Legolas carried some of their supplies to help lessen their burdens. Speaking of the elf, Ginny was seriously pissed at him at the moment. She glanced up at the elf and scowled. The damn princeling was walking on top of the bloody snow and he barely had a hair out of place. _Fucking elves._

 

The snow was up to Ginny’s waist as she walked behind Boromir, who was shoveling the snow out of their path as they walked. Beside him, Fred and George were trying to melt away the snow with heating charms, but the damn white shit was falling so heavily that any progress they made was quickly erased. Said white shit had gotten inside Ginny’s boots and soaked through her socks, soaked through her pants, and was well on the way towards freezing her hair in its messy state. Ginny was chilled to the bone and she was not happy. She was past cold and now she just felt numb. She seriously hoped that her toes weren’t frostbitten. 

 

She was brought out of her thoughts and her misery by a rumbling noise and she could feel powerful magic acting around them.

 

“There is a fell voice on the air,” Legolas commented.

 

“It’s Saruman!” Gandalf shouted over the howling wind. Even as he spoke, boulders tumbled down the mountainside, falling just over the ledge they walked upon. 

 

“He’s trying to bring down the mountain!” Aragorn yelled at the wizard. “We must turn back!”

 

“Gandalf, this is insane! We can’t go on!” Ginny heard herself cry.

 

“No!” the Istar countered them. He began chanting something in elvish in an attempt to combat Saruman’s magic. As he spoke and wove his magic, Ginny could feel in the air the pulse of their opposing powers - fighting each other, struggling for victory. Gandalf was losing. There was another rumble and for a split second, Ginny saw white falling down on top of her.

 

“ _Protego!_ ” she cried out of instinct. She panicked and she needed to save herself and the rest of them if she could. The snow crashed down on her shield and at first, it hovered just above her head. She struggled to hold the shield, but she was losing strength and fast. She started to tremble, her knees were weakening beneath her, and she collapsed, her shield with her. The snow crashed down on top of her and she struggled for breath but found none. She couldn’t get enough air - she was seeing spots. She panicked, she felt her breaths getting shorter and shorter, but suddenly a hand found her through the suffocating snow and pulled her to the surface. 

 

Ginny gasped and spluttered, gulping in fresh breaths of air, and felt her weight being supported by someone, the same someone who had rescued her. She shivered violently and her teeth chattered, even as she leaned into the hold of her rescuer. She took in a deep breath and immediately knew who held her; she’d recognize Aragorn’s scent of pipe weed, leather, and earth anywhere. His arms were wrapped around her body tightly, keeping her upright and beginning to warm her up. 

 

“Are you alright?” he asked her. She nodded.

 

“Yeah, I’m okay. I will be. Thank you,” she said. Aragorn smiled at her before moving on to the others to check on them. Ginny set about making sure everyone was out of the snow and after a quick head count, she was positive that the entirety of the company was safe. Returning her attention to the discussion at hand, she caught the tail end of whatever Gimli was saying about their route.

 

“Let us got through the Mines of Moria!” he said. Gandalf paused, deliberating what would be done.

 

“Let the Ringbearer decide,” he finally said.

 

“We cannot stay here!” Boromir shouted over the wind. "This will be the death of the hobbits!”

 

“Frodo?” Gandalf prompted him.

 

All heads turned towards the hobbit, waiting in anticipation for his answer. 

 

“We will go through the mines.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


	8. Watcher

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nasty tentacle beasts: fun for the whole family!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still don't own Harry Potter or Lord of the Rings. If I did, I'd eat like a king.
> 
> Enjoy!

Ginny was extremely happy to be off of Caradhras. It had taken them a few days, but they were finally out of the snow and on their way down to Moria’s western gate. On their first night out of the snow, the Weasley siblings went about their routine of setting up wards, and the company proceeded to busy themselves with mostly mindless tasks. They’d lit a fire, and now Sam was cooking dinner, talking to Merry and Pippin; Frodo was staring off into space, lost in thought; Legolas was keeping watch; Gandalf was puffing on his pipe; Boromir was sharpening his already razor-sharp blades; Fred and George were playing exploding snap; and Ginny was amusing herself with transfiguration. She had a small chip of wood at her feet, and was transfiguring it into a daisy and back. She watched as the chip stretched upwards, becoming greener and greener, and sprouting a bud at the top which opened into the small white flower.

 

Ginny suddenly heard a small explosion coming from the general direction of her brothers. The rest of the Fellowship jumped violently, but after a lifetime of such noises, Ginny was not surprised in the slightest. A lack of explosions would be more disturbing to her. She calmly turned to see Fred trying to grow back his singed eyebrows. She shook her head at them, a grin on her face.

 

“Miss Ginny?” came a hobbit’s voice from beside her. She looked over to see Merry and Pippin. It was Merry who had addressed her.

 

“Are you not worried about your brothers?” Merry asked her. Ginny laughed at the question. Almost everyone else looked over at her except for her brothers, who were too preoccupied with Fred’s nonexistent eyebrows to notice much else.

 

“Nah,” she said, “explosions are normal for them. You know how they like to play tricks on people?” she asked them. The two hobbits nodded. 

 

“Back where we come from, they made their living on practical jokes,” she explained. “They had a shop that they started and would work on their inventions at home. There were always blasting noises coming from their room. Actually, it was more worrying if there was no noise at all,” she told them with a reminiscent smile.

 

“What did they invent?” Pippin asked her.

 

“That would be a better question for the inventors, I think,” she said, gesturing to the twins. Fred had finally succeeded in growing back his eyebrows, but his face was still full of soot. She watched them go over to the twins, but dread started to build inside her. George reached into his pocket that he’d enchanted with an undetectable extension charm. 

 

He pulled out a firework. Not just any firework, but a Weasley’s Wildfire Whizbang. Ginny reinforced their invisibility wards as fast as she could before George could light the fuse. She knew he had the sense to be careful, but they couldn't be too cautious. When he lit the firework, it turned out to be one of their giant catherine wheels that spun around in circles around their camp and in the sky. The hobbits watched it in awe, and Gandalf was observing it appraisingly. Ginny had seen this all before, so she decided to take it upon herself to go on watch duty. 

 

The night passed uneventfully, and in two more days, had arrived at the valley where Gandalf said that the gate was located. Honestly, Ginny was a bit confused. There was nothing she could see that suggested to the existence of any sort of door. When she voiced this, Gimli had an answer ready for her.

 

“That’s because dwarf doors are invisible when closed,” he said proudly.

 

“Yes Gimli, their own masters cannot find them if their secrets are forgotten,” Gandalf confirmed.

 

“Why doesn’t that surprise me?” Legolas said cynically to Fred and George, who walked on either side of him. Gimli grumbled at the remark, but kept silent. Gandalf examined a stretch of rock and somehow found markings. While they stood there watching the wizard, the full moon emerged from behind the clouds, and a beautifully crafted door appeared on the face of the stone, glowing white. 

 

“The doors of Durin, lord of Moria. Speak friend, and enter,” Gandalf read aloud. He traced the carvings with his hand and then withdrew to stand before the massive doors. 

 

“What do you suppose that means?” Merry asked curiously.

 

“It’s quite simple. If you are a friend, you speak the password and the doors will open,” Gandalf answered. He tried something in elvish that Ginny failed to understand - it may have been Quenya - but it was ineffective. He tried again, something different this time, with the same results.

 

“ _Alohamora_ ,” Fred tried, aiming his wand at the door. It was just as effective as Gandalf’s elvish chants. Ginny and George turned to their brother, the former with raised eyebrows, the latter shaking his head in shame. Fred shrugged. “It was worth a shot,” he said, and Ginny had to admit to herself that he had a point.

 

“Nothing’s happening.” Pippin said disappointedly, pointing out the obvious. Gandalf mumbled something to himself, but was interrupted by Pippin again.

 

“What are you going to do then?” he asked curiously.

 

“Knock your head against them, Peregrin Took, and if that doesn’t shatter them, then I am allowed a little peace from foolish questions!” he said grumpily.

 

Hours later, they were still waiting for the doors to open. Gandalf’s patience was running thinner and thinner and he sat hunched over on a rock, puzzling over the door. Most of the fellowship had found places to sit while they waited, but at the moment, Aragorn and Sam were relieving Bill of his burdens, preparing to set him free, back to Rivendell. Figuring that she had nothing better to do, Ginny got up from her seat and walked over to help them. She unbuckled Bill’s bridle and stroked his nose, helping Sam unbuckle some of the pony's burdens.

 

“The mines are no place for a pony. Even one so brave as Bill,” Aragorn told Sam regretfully as they worked.

 

“Buh-bye, Bill.” Sam said sadly. Ginny laid a comforting hand on the hobbit’s shoulder and they watched Aragorn turn him free, sending him out of the narrow valley, back the way they came. 

 

“He will be alright, Sam,” she said. “Bill’s a smart pony, he’ll make it back just fine.” she said comfortingly. Sam nodded. On impulse, Ginny hugged the hobbit to her side briefly before releasing him with a pat on his shoulder. Sam gave her a grateful little smile before going back to sit beside Frodo.

 

“You’re good with them,” Aragorn commented to Ginny as he came up next to her, referring to the hobbits. Ginny shrugged.

 

“Thanks,” she said. “I don’t know, I think sometimes I forget that they’re actually adults, you know? They can be so innocent and naïve - but they’re older than I am,” she said. “It’s strange,” she said, turning her gaze from the hobbits to Aragorn, where she found that he had been watching her intently, a small smile on his face.

 

"They need the comfort you can provide, Ginny,” he said, tucking a stray lock of her hair behind her ear. She nodded, unsure how to respond. After a contented silence, Ginny returned her attention to their delay.

 

She watched the resilient doors and the equally persistent Gandalf, who still had no luck at all. She heard a splash, and whirled around to see Merry and Pippin throwing stones into the water. She went to stop them, but Aragorn got there first. He grabbed Pippin’s wrist just as he was about to throw another one in.

 

“Do not disturb the water,” he said harshly. Pippin looked startled, but he and Merry stopped. 

 

Gandalf seemed to have nearly given up. He turned from the door, muttering angrily to himself. He threw his staff down upon the ground, removed his hat, and massaged his temples. Ginny was looking into the water and she thought that she saw something move, but she couldn’t be sure.

 

“It’s a riddle!” Merry exclaimed suddenly. The Fellowship all turned to face him, varying degrees of confusion on their faces.

 

“Speak ‘friend’, and enter!” he said excitedly. “What’s the elvish word for friend?” he asked no one in particular.

 

“ _Mellon,_ ” Legolas answered the hobbit’s question. To their delight, the doors swung open slowly, creaking with the movement. They all rose from their seats and followed Gandalf inside. He lit the tip of his staff, and the Weasleys were spread out among the company, their wands alight, held high above their heads.

 

“Now, master elf, you will enjoy the fabled hospitality of the dwarves!” Gimli said enthusiastically. “Roaring fires, malt beer, ripe meat off the bone!” he gushed. “This, my friend, is the home of my cousin Balin, and they call it a mine. A mine!” 

 

Ginny glanced around her, seeing no such comforts. No, what she saw was gruesome. The corpses of dwarves, bones and broken armor, black fletched arrows stuck in their cold, dead bodies. 

 

“This is no mine,” Boromir disagreed, having noticed the same things Ginny had, “this is a tomb.” Gimli took a closer look around them, and saw the destruction of his kin.

 

“No!” he cried, “No!” He ran off into the mine, searching among the bodies for Merlin knows what.

 

Legolas bent over and yanked an arrow from one of the many bodies. “Goblins,” he said disgustedly, recognizing something about the arrow. He threw it away from them, and it clattered against the stone. They all drew their weapons, swords and bows alike.

 

“We make for the Gap of Rohan,” Boromir said with conviction. “We should never have come here! Now get out, get out!” 

 

The fellowship had to agree with Boromir’s sentiment and they started to leave but before they could, they heard a cry from near the door. They turned to see Frodo being dragged out of the mine, a dirty great tentacle wound around his ankle. Cries of “Frodo!” followed him, and Merry and Pippin caught hold of his wrists, trying to keep him on land. Sam drew his sword and started hacking at the tentacle, and it released the Ringbearer, slinking back into the water. They had only a moment’s relief before six, maybe seven, other slimy appendages burst from the water, striking at the hobbits and taking hold of Frodo once more. It held him suspended in the air, upside down, the Ring hanging by its chain about Frodo’s neck, dangling out of his shirt.

 

“Diffindo!” George shouted, aiming his wand at the tentacle holding Frodo, but missed. Legolas shot an arrow at the monster, aiming for the same place, and had more success, though it still didn’t release the hobbit. 

 

“Strider!” Frodo yelled desperately at Aragorn, who ran forward with his sword, slicing at tentacles and trying his best to harm the beast enough for it to drop Frodo. The creature thrashed in the water, lashing out at them all while jets of light came from Fred and George’s wands, but the thing was seemingly impervious to their spells. Slowly, it rose further out of the water, and a great many eyed head broke the surface. It dangled Frodo just above its open and fanged mouth, as Aragorn and Boromir chopped off tentacles right and left. Fred got a spell on the tentacle holding Frodo, and the beast dropped him into Boromir’s arms.

 

“Into the mines!” Gandalf shouted. They rushed out of the water and into the darkness, shooting arrows and spells behind them as they went. Legolas got a shot into the watcher’s mouth before he dashed inside after the rest of the fellowship. They saw the creature coming towards them, crawling onto the bank, its remaining tentacles reaching towards them. They slapped and whipped at the stone, and finally hit it hard enough to make it collapse. Stone fell in the fellowship’s wake, closing off their only way out. They were trapped.

 

“We now have but one choice.” Gandalf said grimly, lighting his staff. “We must face the long dark of Moria. Be on your guard. There are older and fouler things than orcs in the deep places of the earth.” he said grimly, leading the way for the rest to follow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! If you liked it, tell me why in a comment or drop me a kudos.


	9. Riddled

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which I not-so-subtly remind you that Ginny has been through a lot of shit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to another chapter!
> 
> To what I'm sure is your genuine surprise, I still do not own Harry Potter or Lord of the Rings. If I did, I would legitimately purchase all of my music.

The Fellowship walked carefully through the mines, pausing occasionally while Gandalf deliberated which direction to go in. Ginny was constantly looking over her shoulder and all around them, paranoid and, she admitted only to herself, afraid. She hated being underground. It made her feel like she was eleven years old again, a scared, stupid, and overly trusting girl that managed to get herself stuck in the chamber of secrets. _Merlin_ , she hated this. As they walked, her eyes were playing tricks on her. There were shadows that resembled the dark and wet walls of the chamber, formations in the stone that looked like the basilisk. The cold and stagnant air felt like it was drawn straight from her memories and Ginny could barely handle it.

 

In the silence, her mind dwelled on those memories. Memories of finding rooster feathers on her robes, of finding herself somewhere with no recollection of how she got there, of blood on her fingertips from writing grisly messages on the castle walls. She remembered the times when she couldn’t remember anything at all, when, as she knew now, she was under Riddle’s control. She remembered the feeling of growing weaker and weaker as Riddle used the diary - her safe place where she had poured out her dreams and insecurities - to draw the life out of her. If she really tried, she could still see his face looming over her, watching as she began to die, slipping in and out of consciousness on the slimy chamber floor.

 

Ginny trembled at the rush of horrifying memories from her first year. Her knees gave out from underneath her and she stumbled, catching herself on the stone wall to her left and scratching up her palm. Her wand fell out of her grasp and the light went out as it clattered against the stone. She clamped her eyes shut, determined to get past this, but she could feel it all again so clearly. She took deep breaths - or tried to at least, even as she felt Tom Riddle’s cold presence again after fifteen long years. When she felt a hand on her back, she recoiled away from it. She was stuck in her head and in her head were her terrors.

 

_Her skeleton will lie in the chamber forever._

 

The words forcefully ran through her mind like a sickening mantra and Ginny remembered the blood on her hands - blood from her own veins - when she awoke in the Chamber with Riddle after writing those words on the wall. There was blood on her hands now. The hand touched her back again, and she shrunk away from it once more. Someone said something to her, but it was lost to her ears. Her brain was in the Chamber, with serpentine statues on all sides, looming over her, waiting to strike.

 

* * *

 

Fred noticed Ginny stumble out of the corner of his eye. She fell against the wall and seemed to be struggling for breath, her eyes screwed shut. She was crying. Fred nodded at George, and retrieved Ginny’s wand as George approached her. He placed a hand between her shoulder blades comfortingly, but she jerked away from the gesture. George raised his eyebrows at Fred, who was now on Ginny’s other side. The rest of the Fellowship stood watching, worry on their faces. They let Ginny calm down a bit and tried again. George repeated his previous action but she only got further away from them, curling up into the fetal position. Fred started talking to her.

 

“Gin? What’s wrong?” he asked her gently. She ignored him.

 

“Ginny?” George tried, reaching for her shoulder. When he touched her, she broke out of her trance and looked at them with wide eyes, as if she hadn’t realized what was happening.

 

“I- I’m sorry,” she apologized, “I just, I just um, I just remembered something shitty,” she tried to brush them off, attempting to sound more confident than she really was. The twins exchanged a look, the pair of them then turning skeptical looks her way. “I’m fine,” she insisted, even as she tried to discreetly wipe away the tears that had fallen from her eyes. 

 

“Bullshit,” Fred disagreed in a harsh whisper. 

 

“Gin, what’s wrong?” George asked at the same volume, in a more gentle tone than his brother. 

 

“It’s nothing-”

 

“ _Gin._ ”

 

“This place reminds me of the chamber, okay?” she finally said, nonverbally asking her brothers to leave it the hell alone. “Why do you think I don’t like being underground, huh? Why do you think I never drink enough to black out? I don’t like remembering this shit and this is all just throwing it back in my face so can we please just drop it so we can get the hell out of here?” she said, her voice growing in volume as she spoke until she was practically shouting. Taken aback by her outburst, Fred and George were damn near speechless. 

 

“Let’s move on, then,” Aragorn said after a moment, and Gandalf didn’t need to be told twice. The Istar continued on the path they had been taking and the rest of them followed. Ginny went to walk ahead of her brothers, but George stopped her with a hand on her arm.

 

“We’re here for you, you know that, right?” he asked her gently. She nodded.

 

“I know.”

 

She let her brothers hug her briefly before she left them at the back of the company, instead weaving through the rest of their companions until she fell into step beside Aragorn.

 

“Thank you,” she said just loud enough for him to hear.

 

“It’s no problem,” he insisted, and they continued on in silence.

 

* * *

 

“We will sleep here tonight,” Gandalf said to them a few hours later, when they had reached a suitable space with enough room for all their bedrolls. George was itching to point out that there really was no night or day underground, but he kept his mouth shut. They all settled down on their bedrolls, except for Gandalf, who was keeping watch. Ginny was between Aragorn and George, her usual place. She curled up and fell into a fitful sleep.

 

_She was in her Hogwarts uniform, but it was dirty. There were feathers all down the front, the feathers of a rooster, and there was dirt smudged on her knees. She looked down at her hands and saw a cut on her arm, blood smeared around it, and that same blood on her fingertips. She was in the hospital wing, and petrified victims filled the beds. Mrs. Norris, Colin, Justin, Nearly Headless Nick, Penelope, Hermione... But then she saw the others, equally still and lifeless. Frodo, Merry, Pippin, Sam, and Arwen. With a gasp of horror, Ginny ran to Arwen’s side._

 

_"This is all your fault,” a silky and persuasive voice told her._

 

_“No! No, I didn’t mean it, I swear!” she cried. Arwen turned to look at her and where Ginny expected to see her sister’s bright blue eyes, she saw those of Tom Riddle; dark and cruel, staring her down through narrow slits._

 

_“Of course it’s your fault,” she hissed at Ginny._

 

_“No! I didn’t mean to!” she protested, trying in vain to convince her that it wasn’t her fault. Arwen shook her head and went still._

 

_“No! No! No, Arwen, listen to me!” she cried, but the elleth was immobile. Ginny turned around, and she was in the Chamber, with Fred, George, and Aragorn’s nearly lifeless bodies on the slimy floor._

 

_“No!” she screamed, running to them, sliding on the tile as she went. She knelt down between Fred and Aragorn, and she heard her wand clatter on the ground as it fell from her hand. She reached out a hand to Fred's arm, and it was cold. She frantically searched for a pulse and found one, but it was painfully slow and faint. She felt Aragorn's wrist for his own pulse and found the same thing, but a little stronger than Fred’s._

 

_“They’re all going to die,” the voice spoke again while Ginny sat there, staring at the three of them, not allowing herself to believe what was before her eyes._

 

_“They won’t wake,” came the same silky voice from behind her. She got up and whirled around to face Tom Riddle._

 

_“You!” she shouted at him accusingly. “You did this!”_

 

_"No, Ginny,” he disagreed. “It was not I who set the basilisk on your friends, not I who killed the basilisk's only foes, not I who opened the Chamber. It was you. It was all you. They won't wake."_

 

_"No! They have to!” she cried desperately._

 

_“But they won’t. They never will. You’ve failed them,” he told her calmly. He began to hiss in parseltongue; a language Ginny had used before but could never remember. Below them, Ginny heard a rumbling noise that she knew all too well; a rumbling noise that meant that the basilisk would soon be joining them. She reached for her wand, but it was gone. She looked up and saw Riddle idly twirling it in his hands. With a smirk, he fired a curse that rooted her to the spot as the basilisk slid out of Salazar Slytherin’s great stone mouth._

 

_“No!” Ginny shouted, her eyes darting between her friend and brothers and the basilisk._

 

_“Oh it won’t hurt you,” Riddle said mockingly, “only them.”_

 

_Ginny screamed for it all to stop, for him to take her instead, not to harm them. He only laughed at her, a bitter and mirthless laugh. The basilisk was poised to strike. Ginny felt someone shaking her by the shoulders, but she threw them off and continued screaming at Riddle, begging him to take her instead. She was shaken again._

 

Ginny bolted up into a sitting position, breathing heavily. She looked around her, and saw that she was in the Mines of Moria. Her eyes darted to Fred and George’s bedrolls and saw that they were fast asleep, their chests rising and falling slowly. She turned to her other side and saw Aragorn, awake and sitting beside her, watching her worriedly. A few tears of relief escaped her eyes.

 

“Are you okay, Ginny?” he asked her as he wiped away her tears. She started to nod, but couldn’t complete the action. She shook her head as she fought back tears. Aragorn took her into his arms and rocked her back and forth as she tried her hardest not to cry, trying to soothe her worries.

 

"What's wrong?" he inquired. She couldn't bring herself to answer. She knew that if she opened her mouth to speak she'd only end up crying.

 

“Did you have a bad dream?” he asked her gently. She nodded jerkily. She tucked her head in between his shoulder and neck, and if it hadn’t been silent all around them, Aragorn would have missed her words.

 

“I dreamed that you, Fred and George were about to be killed before my eyes and-” she started to cry harder as she spoke, her words were punctuated with sobs. She stopped to collect her breath. "And I couldn’t do anything,” she told him in a terrified whisper. “I couldn’t do anything. It was my fault, it was all my fault. And the hobbits were petrified, and Riddle said that I failed you, and the basilisk, and the chamber and-” she cut herself off, startled by how much she had divulged in her hysterics.

 

“It was just a dream, Ginny,” Aragorn tried to calm her, kissing the crown of her head softly. "Just a dream."

 

“Yeah, just a dream,” she echoed him quietly, not entirely sure of herself.

 

“Will you be able to go back to sleep?” he asked her. She shook her head. She knew that if she closed her eyes again, she’d just see the cold, cruel eyes of Tom Marvolo Riddle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


	10. Skirmish

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It seems that cave trolls are a little tougher than mountain trolls; a simple little wingardium leviosa isn't gonna cut it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there lovely readers - if there are any of you - I'm still here!
> 
> I still don't own Harry Potter or Lord of the Rings. If I did, I could afford a car.

“I have no memory of this place.” Gandalf said as he faced a fork in their path. He stood there, puzzled, as he searched his mind. He sat down, thinking it over and over again. Fred tried the “point me” charm, but all that spell did was point you in the cardinal direction, be it north, east, south, or west, not the direction you needed to go in order to get to your destination. Sensing that it would take a long time, the Fellowship made themselves comfortable on the rock as they waited. Ginny’s eyes kept darting around them all from where she sat by Gimli and Aragorn, who was smoking his pipe pensively. This place still scared her, and she was afraid to sit by herself. She didn’t want the memories of the Chamber to return. Ever. She heard Pippin and Merry whispering to each other.

 

“Are we lost?” Pippin asked.

 

“No, I don’t think we are. Now shh! Gandalf’s thinking,” Merry said. There was a short pause before Pippin spoke again.

 

“Merry? I’m hungry,” he said. Ginny couldn’t help but smile at them. Their appetites really were larger than those of her brothers. She reached into her bag and pulled out some dry crackers. She tossed them to Pippin.

 

“It’s not much, but it’ll fill your stomach,” she said. Pippin thanked her and stuffed the crackers into his mouth. Ginny chuckled to herself silently. They were worse than Ron. She missed him. Before she left home, she never thought that she’d miss his rude table manners, his bottomless stomach, or his tactlessness, but here she was, all sad over the fact that Ron wasn’t there. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Gandalf and Frodo talking quietly, but payed them no mind. It wasn’t her business. 

 

Suddenly, Gandalf stood up and replaced his hat on his head.

 

“Ah! It’s that way!” he said. 

 

“He’s remembered!” Merry said excitedly.

 

“No,” Gandalf disagreed, “but the air does not smell so foul down here,” he explained. “When in doubt, Meriadoc, always follow your nose.” 

 

Ginny shook her head at the wizard, smiling as she did so. It was crazy how much he reminded her of Dumbledore sometimes. They all got up to follow him through the chosen arch, and Ginny took up her place in the middle of the company once more, with a twin on either side. They walked for a while, until they came upon a large hall. 

 

“Let us risk a little more light,” the Istar said from the front. He brightened the tip of his staff, and the Weasleys did the same with their wands. The sight that met their eyes was more than impressive - it was breathtaking. It was a large dwarven hall with pillars the size of trees beautifully carved out of the stone, making arches across a ceiling taller than that of the Great Hall at Hogwarts. Ginny’s jaw dropped a little as she looked at it all, trying to take everything in, but finding it impossible.

 

“Behold, the great realm of the dwarf city of Dwarrodelf,” Gandalf said to them as he walked further into the hall, shedding more light unto the intricately carved columns. They got further into the hall, and they were almost at the other end when Gimli ran forward into the next room with a surprised and saddened cry.

 

“Gimli!” George and Gandalf shouted after him, but he didn’t stop. He kept running until he was inside the next room, the floor was strewn with corpses and other residue of battle, and in the center was a marble tomb, light shining down upon it from the outside. The Weasleys were all forcibly reminded of Dumbledore’s tomb; white marble encasing their beloved headmaster. 

 

“No!” Gimli cried as he got closer to it. “No!” He knelt down in front of it and succumbed to tears, crying into the hand that wasn’t holding his axe.

 

They followed him inside, and Gandalf read the inscription on the tomb. Ginny hesitantly approached the dwarf and laid a hand on his shoulder in solidarity. If there was one thing she understood, it was the need to grieve. Gimli needed that right now, Ginny knew, without even knowing who resided inside the tomb, and so she did what she could to comfort him without making him uncomfortable.

 

“Here lies Balin, son of Fundin, Lord of Moria.” Gandalf read aloud. Gimli’s cousin. He was family. Ginny also couldn't help but think he'd heard the name somewhere before, maybe in a story? It didn’t matter, she decided, and she brought herself and her attention back to the matter at hand.

 

“He is dead then,” Gandalf continued. “It is as I feared.” 

Ginny watched him reach down and pick up a book from the dead skeletal hands of a dwarf leaning against the tomb. The book seemed to protest being opened, but Gandalf forced it to cooperate. 

 

“They have taken the bridge,” Gandalf read, “and the second hall. We have barred the gates, but cannot hold them for long. The ground shakes. Drums, drums in the deep. We cannot get out. The shadow moves in the dark. We cannot get out. They are coming.” 

 

There was a loud clatter and Ginny looked up sharply to see that Pippin had knocked a skeleton down a well. The sound reverberated for nearly a minute before it stopped.

 

“Fool of a Took!” Gandalf snapped at the hobbit. “Throw yourself in next time and rid us of your stupidity!”

 

Ginny raised her eyebrows at that comment. _There was no need for such harsh words_ , she thought, though she kept her mouth shut. They didn’t need any more dissent and disagreement among them than what already existed. And besides, that noise would have alerted any enemies to their presence. They needed to be ready to fight. A loud pounding sound rumbled from all sides. It was a drum. _Drums in the deep._ It sounded again, and again, and again, getting louder, more rhythmic, more hurried. Ginny noticed Frodo drawing his sword, Sting, and saw that it was glowing blue. Orcs.

 

“Oh dammit,” she murmured to herself. They heard a shriek form outside the chamber, and Legolas voiced all of their thoughts.

 

“Orcs!” he said and Boromir rushed to the door to close it. He made a mistake of pausing for a second, and two arrows shot past his nose, embedding themselves in the door. 

 

“Get back!” Aragorn ordered the hobbits, “and stay close to Gandalf!” He turned to Ginny, about to say something similar, but she beat him to it.

 

“Oh _hell_ no,” she said, “I am no damsel in distress, you should know that better than anyone.” Sure, she had a bit of a breakdown yesterday, but that had no bearing on her fighting skills. 

 

“Best just let her fight, mate,” Fred said to Aragorn, who looked exasperated with Ginny. 

 

“Haven't you figured that out by now?” George finished. As they were talking, Boromir had shut the door and barred it closed.

 

“They have a cave troll,” he said with an odd tone of voice, almost as if he was asking things to just get worse. 

 

“Bloody fantastic,” Fred bit out sarcastically.

 

“Well, if Ron can take down a mountain troll with _Wingardium Leviosa_ , I think we can make short work of some cave troll, don’t you, my dear siblings?” George asked Fred and Ginny half jokingly. Ginny couldn’t hide her grin as she nodded.

 

“Of course,” she said a bit cockily. Fred and George rushed forward to help the others brace the door with spears and axes scattered along the ground, and Ginny watched as Gandalf and the hobbits drew swords and Gimli leaped atop Balin’s tomb.

 

“Let them come!” he growled. “There is one dwarf yet in Moria who still draws breath!” he said viciously, axe raised and ready to strike. The doors shook with the blows from the other side and the axes and spears that barred it closed were beginning to splinter under the pressure. Ginny, Aragorn, and Legolas had their bows strung and drawn, all aiming at the doors, ready to shoot down the first goblin to break through. Fred and George were bouncing on the balls of their feet, shifting their weight from one foot to the other, exchanging friendly banter and trying to make light of the situation while Boromir swung his sword around a bit in his hand, warming up his muscles as he braced himself for the coming attack. 

 

The first goblin broke through the wood, and Legolas shot it in the head, eliciting a squeal from the creature as it perished. Another took its place, only to meet one of Aragorn’s arrows, also to the face. Another hole formed, and Ginny focused on that one, getting two out of three arrows shot through the hole and into the mass of goblins behind. They broke down the door, and Legolas brought down the first one through, and it wailed as it fell down, only to be trampled by its kin. They continued to shoot at them until they came too close for that to be effective in any way, shape, or form, and then they drew their swords. Ginny wanted to save her magic as a last resort; if there were any survivors from the attack, they didn’t need the information getting out that four wizards were traveling across Middle Earth together with two men, an elf, a dwarf, and four hobbits. _Might get suspicious,_ Ginny thought sarcastically. _God, I’ve been spending too much time with the twins._

 

She tried to keep her mind anywhere but on the battle, allowing her limbs to move automatically, in a rhythmic pattern of slicing, stabbing, and lunging. She fought back to back with both Fred and George, in a sort of triangle formation, each of them watching the other two’s backs.

 

“Fred!” Ginny called to him, and he ducked below the blade of an goblin who had been poised to decapitate him. Ginny stabbed the thing in the gut and pulled out her sword just as the cave troll entered the room. 

 

“Come on!” George called them, running off towards the troll. Fred and Ginny exchanged a look that was somewhere in between resigned and frustrated and followed their brother. "Cover me!" George shouted to them and they had no time to argue as he started flinging spells at the troll's thick skin. While George tried to bring the troll down with magic, Ginny and Fred were busy bringing down the goblins that would probably kill their brother if they got the chance. After awhile, Fred and George switched places, but no matter what spells they tried. nothing got through to this thing. The only progress they made was some shrapnel from a wayward confundus that lodged itself in the troll's shoulder. Apparently, cave trolls were very resilient to magic. Finally, Ginny was done with it. 

 

"Forget it!" she shouted over the din. "Worry about the goblins, let Legolas take care of the troll!" Even as she was shouting at her brothers, a goblin lunged at her and thinking quickly, she sidestepped it and brought her sword down upon the back of its neck, killing it in a single blow. 

 

After a little while and two more dead goblins by her hand, Ginny heard a loud clanging noise and looked over quickly to see the troll swinging its chain at Legolas, who was standing on a ledge, waiting for an opportunity to shoot at the beast. She turned back to her current battle with a particularly large goblin, who seemed to have more brains than the others. She ducked under its sword and slashed it across both legs. Its sword caught her left forearm, but she barely felt it from the adrenaline pumping through her veins. She kicked it in the crotch - an underhanded move, she knew that, but she was desperate. When it fell to the ground with a snarl, she cleanly sliced off its head, and it was then that she heard Frodo’s desperate cries.

 

“Aragorn!” he shouted. Ginny looked over, and saw that the hobbit was being chased by the troll. “Aragorn!” he shouted again.

 

Aragorn tried to get to the hobbit, but the troll knocked him out somehow, Ginny couldn’t quite see what was going on. She saw the troll raise a spear in its fist and throw it. It clattered against stone, but it picked it up again, this time stabbing it straight and true at a cornered Frodo. With loud battle cries, Merry and Pippin jumped onto its back, stabbing it with their little swords. Ginny ran towards the fallen hobbit without a second thought, throwing a spell at the troll, which missed again. The thing swung its club right and left, thrashing out at the dead goblins - the only kind in the room at this point - and Fellowship alike. Legolas managed to shoot it in the mouth, and it fell to the ground, dead. 

 

Merry and Pippin were thrown off its back and they all rushed to Frodo now that their threats were dispatched. Aragorn got there first, and then Ginny. 

 

“Oh no,” she lamented, her voice heavy with sorrow. Aragorn turned Frodo over so he was facing upwards, and they saw his chest rising and falling. _He’s... alive? How in the hell-?_ Ginny’s eyes widened and she let out a relieved sigh. Frodo gasped for air, clutching at the area where the spear had hit him. There was only a hole in his shirt where the blade had hit, and he seemed to be perfectly okay.

 

“He’s alive,” Sam said to everyone else, smiling in relief.

 

“I’m alright, I’m not hurt,” Frodo reassured them. Aragorn and Ginny stared at him in disbelief. 

 

“ _How?_ ” Ginny voiced the question they all wanted to know the answer to.

 

“You should be dead,” Aragorn said, “that spear would have skewered a wild boar!”

 

“It appears that there is more to this hobbit than meets the eye,” Gandalf interjected, apparently suspecting or knowing something that the rest of them didn’t.

 

In response, Frodo unbuttoned the top of his shirt to reveal a fine white chain shirt, beautifully decorated along the collar. 

 

“Mithril,” Gimli identified the metal, “you are full of surprises, Master Baggins.”

 

“Bilbo’s shirt,” Ginny muttered, putting the pieces together. Bilbo had been given a mithril shirt from Thorin when he had gone on his adventure to Lonely Mountain. And that was where she'd heard the name Balin! How could she have forgotten? That old hobbit must have told her the story twenty times.

 

Interrupting them, screeching and clanging noises began to sound from the same direction the other goblins had just come from. There were more of them.

 

“To the bridge of Khazad-Dûm!” Gandalf ordered them urgently. The fellowship rushed to follow him out of the hall, none of them eager to face another contingent of those monsters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! If you liked it, let me know in a comment or with kudos!


	11. Impassable

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Balrogs make for nasty but necessary plot devices.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still don't own Harry Potter or Lord of the Rings. If I did, I wouldn't be on a desperate search for grad schools that will offer me scholarships.

Shrieks echoed from behind the Fellowship as they ran. They didn’t need to look behind them to know that the goblins were following. They were coming up on all sides, climbing the stone. They scuttled down the pillars around them like overgrown spiders. The Fellowship kept running, following quickly behind Gandalf, until they were surrounded. The creatures snarled and growled at them, brandishing their weapons at them gleefully. Legolas drew his bow and aimed at the circle, no matter where he shot, he’d hit one. The rest drew their swords and the Weasleys drew their wands, ready to fight to the death; they weren’t Gryffindors for nothing. Suddenly, the snarling stopped. There was a low growling rumble and the goblins scattered.

 

_Shit, if they’re scared…_ This wasn’t good, not on anyone’s scale, not even Harry’s. Light the color of flame appeared in the doorway they had come from and they all turned to face this new foe.

 

“What is this new devilry?” Boromir asked Gandalf. The old wizard closed his eyes and scrunched up his face in concentration and worry. He looked as if he was bitterly wishing that his guess was wrong. They heard the scraping of metal against stone, Gandalf opened his eyes and looked up at the fiery light.

 

“A Balrog. A demon of the ancient world,” he said slowly. “This foe is beyond any of you.

 

“ _Run!_ ” he shouted at them, taking the lead once more, as far and fast away from the Balrog as they could get. Gandalf opened the door at the end of the hall and Boromir took the lead, rushing through without a second glance. They heard a shout from the other side, and when they all got through, it was to see Legolas pulling Boromir back from the ledge, saving him from falling to his death. They all got through, Gandalf at the back, and he leaned against the stone archway.

 

“Gandalf?” Aragorn asked him, worried about his condition.

 

“Lead them on, Aragorn!” he urged. “The bridge is near.” 

 

Aragorn paused, reluctant to leave Gandalf.

 

“But-” George started to protest. He didn’t want to leave his mentor in peril again.

 

“Do as I say!” Gandalf commanded them all. “Swords are no more use here.”

 

“Then let _us_ stay with you, Gandalf! Let us help!” Fred pleaded on behalf of himself, his twin, and his sister. His siblings nodded furiously in agreement.

 

“No, Fredrick, you and your siblings are needed elsewhere. Your lives are far more valuable than my own,” Gandalf insisted, ushering them forward after the Fellowship. They ran down the stairs quickly and carefully, catching each other when they threatened to fall off the edge. They came to a stretch of stair with a large gap in between, maybe three yards long. The piece they stood on was cracked, ready to break and fall into the abyss below.

 

“ _Reparo!_ ” Fred cast upon the crack, aiming his wand at the crumbling stone and watching as it fused back together. As Fred was repairing that piece of stair, Ginny and George were enlarging the edges of the hole to bridge the gap, and when they were done, the Fellowship ran across without problem. They heard a large thud and a crumble, and Ginny looked behind them to see that a large boulder had fallen where they had been standing, destroying the stairs they had just descended.

 

They ran down more stairs and they got to the bridge. The Balrog was close behind them now and flames were licking at the stone as they passed it.

 

“Over the bridge, fly!” Gandalf commanded, hurrying them along, and he turned to face the Balrog. It was a frightening creature, as large as a giant, black and silhouetted in flame. It was a bit hunchbacked, had large horns curling from its ears to its jaw, and small bright eyes. It carried a whip made of flames and a large black sword as it advanced on the Grey Wizard. It growled and breathed flame like a dragon. Gandalf turned and ran after the Fellowship, and as soon as they had all crossed the bridge safely, he stopped halfway and turned to face the Balrog.

 

Ginny ran as fast as her legs could carry her and made it across the bridge right behind Aragorn. They ran in single file, Aragorn at the front, then Ginny, Fred, Boromir, Merry, Pippin, George, Frodo, Sam, Gimli, and Legolas bringing up the rear. Ginny turned around to face the bridge and in a matter of seconds, everyone had made it across except for Gandalf. The wizard was standing in the middle of the bridge, staff and sword raised, facing the Balrog. Her eyes widened. He planned to take it on _singlehandedly_.

 

“You cannot pass!” he shouted at it.

 

“Gandalf!” Frodo yelled for the wizard. He started to go back to the bridge, but Ginny stopped him, tears in her own eyes, not wanting to believe what she knew would soon happen. The Balrog seemed to taunt Gandalf, making the flames around itself brighter, standing up to its full height.

 

“I am a servant of the secret fire, wielder of the flame of Anor!” Gandalf said. He raised his staff and the light from the tip got a bluish tint to it, creating a shield around him.

 

“The dark fire will not avail you, flame of Udun!” he said powerfully. The Balrog struck Gandalf’s shield with its flaming sword and the shield broke. The pieces fell like water droplets over the side of the bridge and the Balrog snarled again at the wizard. Ginny felt Frodo trying to free himself from her grasp, to go to Gandalf, but she tightened her hold. She saw Aragorn and George moving closer to the bridge as well.

 

“Aragorn! George!” she called to them both, bringing them back to reality. 

 

“Go back to the shadow!” Gandalf said. The Balrog seemed to take that as a challenge, as it only took a step forward, brandishing its whip. 

 

“ _You shall not pass!_ ” Gandalf shouted, bringing his sword and staff together and driving them soundly into the stone he stood upon. A flash of light came from the point of contact, and the Balrog recoiled a bit before resuming its advance. It growled and swung its whip again, but as it stepped forward, the stone fell from under its feet and it fell into the chasm. Ginny didn’t want to believe her eyes, it was too good to be true - Gandalf defeated a _fucking Balrog!_ She started to smile as Gandalf turned wearily to finish crossing the bridge, but that expression quickly melted into one of disbelief and shock. The fiery whip of the Balrog reached up and curled itself around Gandalf’s ankle, pulling him off of the bridge. He dropped his sword and staff and was barely hanging onto the edge.

 

Frodo broke free of her arms, but Boromir managed to stop him from running to Gandalf. There was nothing they could do. Any spell would be too risky, there was too great a chance of it going awry, since their minds were so preoccupied with worry.

 

“Gandalf!” Frodo wailed, struggling in Boromir’s arms. Gandalf tried to pull himself up onto the bridge, but to no avail. He slipped back, holding on by his fingertips. Ginny could see the sadness in his eyes, the regret that he couldn’t stay with them.

 

“Fly, you fools!” he gave them one last command before relinquishing his hold on the bridge and falling after the Balrog. Frodo’s cry for the wizard and Boromir’s yell to get Aragorn moving both came to Ginny's ears as if she was underwater. She felt numb. She was frozen on the spot. It was like Dumbledore all over again. Her friend, her mentor, her advisor, was gone, dead, forever beyond their help or rescue. She thought she might have heard someone calling her name, but she didn’t do anything. She couldn’t move. It wasn’t fully processed by her brain, she wasn’t functioning properly. She felt someone pulling her arm and somehow in her daze, she managed to follow him out.

 

They got outside the mine, and the fresh air helped to rouse Ginny and bring her back to her senses. When she did come back, it was with tears in her eyes. It had been Aragorn who pulled her out of there and he led her over to a boulder, sitting Ginny down. Seemingly out of nowhere, she felt a shooting pain in her left arm that she hadn't noticed earlier. She looked at her arm to see it bleeding profusely. She let out a small gasp ad grasped her forearm, trying to staunch the bleeding. Aragorn knelt beside her, worry in his eyes.

 

"Are you wounded?" he asked her. She nodded, and removed her right hand from the gash, allowing Aragorn to inspect it. He took her arm in his hands, pushing up her sleeve so he could get a better look. He took out his waterskin and cleaned the wound before using it to clean a strip of cloth he ripped off from the hem of his shirt. Ginny started to protest, but with a look from Aragorn, she closed her mouth. His eyes were pleading, desperate, and sorrowful. Ginny was shocked to see him in such a state, so she let him bind her wound in silence. When he finished, they stood, and Ginny hugged him fiercely. He returned her embrace, burying his face in her hair. 

 

"I am glad you are safe, Ginny,” he murmured. 

 

"Same to you,” Ginny replied. They broke apart and now his eyes were filled with determination. _We must go on,_ Ginny told herself. They both knew that they couldn’t linger. It was too dangerous. The grief weighed heavily on them, but they had to bear it for at least the rest of the day before they could properly deal with it in a safer place.

 

Ginny looked around at the rest of the Fellowship. It seemed broken, almost hollow, without Gandalf’s grumpy and wise presence. She smiled a little through the tears at his memory, but that sad smile was wiped away quickly by the sight of the crying hobbits and her somber brothers. She approached them, and they pulled her into a hug. She was not afraid to cry in front of them, they were her family. Though they would tease her in any other situation, they were grieving too, tears in their own eyes as they comforted each other. 

 

“Legolas, get them up,” Aragorn’s voice interrupted the siblings, bringing them and the rest of the hobbits back to reality. Looking over at him, Ginny knew that he was taking on the role Gandalf had given him before he fell. He knew that they couldn’t stay there safely; they had to keep moving. The Weasleys broke apart and went about helping Legolas, convincing the Hobbits to stand, drying their tears.

 

“Give them a moment, for pity’s sake!” Boromir said, almost begging.

 

“We’ll have time later to grieve,” Ginny said to Boromir as she helped Sam to his feet. “For now, we need to move.”

 

“Yes, by nightfall, these hills will be swarming with Orcs,” Aragorn argued, affirming Ginny’s last statement. “We must reach the woods of Lothlórien.

 

“Come Legolas, Boromir, Gimli, George, Fred, get them up,” he said again. 

 

“Come on Sam, on your feet,” Ginny said gently. He nodded tearfully, but stood up bravely.

 

“Frodo?” Aragorn called to the Ringbearer. He had been staring out over the stone hills, a vacant and depressed look in his eyes. They would all have to bury their grief for the time being. They had no time to spare.

 

* * *

 

They made their way downhill and things were getting warmer and greener. Finally, they reached the foot of the mountain and now they were running through patches of green, coming upon the edge of Lothlórien. Aragorn was at the head, with Legolas and Ginny beside him, as they were the fastest runners among them. Boromir and Fred were at the back, with George, Gimli, and the hobbits in the middle. They ran through the grass and into the trees, slowing down as they did so. The trees were large and old, the trunks wide and branches tall. 

 

“Stay close, young hobbits,” Gimli said urgently. “They say that a great sorceress lives in these woods.” Ginny raised her eyebrows and turned around to walk backwards, trusting Legolas or Aragorn to tell her if she was about to walk into something.

 

“And what, may I ask, is wrong with a sorceress?” she asked Gimli jokingly, wearing a smirk her brothers would be proud of.

 

“I don’t mean any offense, Ginevra-” Ginny glared at him for using her full name “-but this sorceress is not like you are, she is an elf witch of terrible power. All who look upon her fall under her spell, and are never seen again!” he said. Ginny rolled her eyes and turned back so she could see where she was going. _An elf witch?_ she thought skeptically, _yeah right._

 

_‘You may be surprised, Ginevra, daughter of Arthur,’_ said a feminine voice in Ginny’s head that wasn’t her own. She started and looked around for the speaker, but saw no one.

 

“Well, here’s one dwarf she won’t ensnare so easily!” she heard Gimli say from behind her. “I have the eyes of a hawk and the ears of a fox!”

 

Ginny shook her head at the dwarf and looked up from the ground, stopping quickly. She was face to face with an arrowhead. 

 

“ _Expelliarmus!_ ” she said after she drew her wand. The bow and arrow aimed at her nose flew out of their archer’s grasp and into the woods. The archer, an elf, glared at her, and his neighbor simply redirected his arrow so it was pointed at Ginny. _Well that was pointless,_ she thought. 

 

“The dwarf breathes so loud, we could have shot him in the dark,” said a rather pompous looking elf who strode forward from behind the archers. “And this girl here would do well not to threaten an armed force greater than she,” he said to Ginny. She glared at him and her middle finger started twitching slightly. It would be _so_ satisfying to flip him off.

 

“ _Welcome Legolas, son of Thranduil,_ ” the pompous elf greeted Legolas in elvish like an old friend.

 

“ _Our Fellowship stands in your debt, Haldir of Lórien,_ ” Legolas replied in kind. Haldir's eyes fell on Aragorn.

 

“ _Ah, Aragorn of the Dunedain. You are known to us,_ ” Haldir said, and Aragorn nodded in reply.

 

Meanwhile, Gimli was getting frustrated by the language barrier, and finally said something about it.

 

“So much for the legendary courtesy of the Elves! Speak words we can all understand!” he said angrily.

 

“We have not had dealings with the dwarves since the dark days,” Haldir said in the common tongue, as if he was superior. He was beginning to remind the Weasleys of Malfoy.

 

“Well you know what this dwarf says to that?” Gimli said before cursing Haldir out in dwarvish. Ginny raised her eyebrows at his words, a grin playing on her face. Aragorn turned to Gimli and grabbed his arm forcefully.

 

“That was not so courteous,” he reprimanded. Haldir shifted his gaze to the hobbits, his eyes finally resting on Frodo.

 

“You bring great evil with you,” he said, clearly referring to the Ring. He paused to stare at Frodo before he spoke again. “You can go no further.”

 

* * *

 

_This is ridiculous,_ Ginny griped internally. _Can’t they just let us in and be done with it? What’s the big deal? Sure, we have the Ring with us, but it was housed in Rivendell for a while, wasn’t it? Why can’t we bring it here?_

 

Aragorn and Haldir had been arguing for hours in elvish, Aragorn pushing for them to let the Fellowship into Lothlórien, Haldir steadfastly refusing. In that time, the hearts of the Fellowship grew heavy with the sorrow they had hidden during their journey to the Golden Wood, and were now allowing themselves to grieve for their fallen friend.

 

_Why? Why did he have to fall? We needed him! We_ still _need him! Gandalf could have gotten us in in a heartbeat. Not that I don’t believe in Aragorn, he’ll get us inside, but why must it take hours?_

 

Ginny was brought out of her thoughts by Haldir, who told them to follow him to Caras Galadhron. Aragorn had finally succeeded. As they walked, Ginny approached the ranger.

 

“Finally,” she muttered. “Took you long enough to convince him,” she said jokingly, trying to lighten the mood. Aragorn looked at her and shook his head, but the corners of his mouth were turning upwards. Ginny smiled. She prided herself in being one of the only people who could get Aragorn to smile. He didn’t show happiness nearly enough, his heart was heavy with too many burdens for one person. She was glad that she could bring a smile to his face when he was so troubled. They came to the crest of a hill, and below them was Caras Galadhon, the home of Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel. Ginny got shivers up her spine just from looking at it. 

 

They reached their destination after miles of walking, and Ginny was getting tired. Her feet hurt, her legs hurt, her entire body hurt with wounds and soreness in her muscles. Haldir led them up to a particularly large talan where they were greeted by two elves: Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel themselves. The Lord had silvery white hair and held himself regally and the Lady was breathtakingly beautiful, with long white blonde hair falling past her waist.

 

“The enemy knows you have entered here.” Celeborn said. “What hope you had in secrecy is now gone.” He paused to look over the Fellowship. “Eleven there are here, yet twelve there were set out from Rivendell.” he said. “Tell me, where is Gandalf? For I much desire to speak with him. I can no longer see him from afar." 

 

Galadriel seemed to go into a sort of trance, her eyes got a bit wider, and she spoke to no one in particular.

 

“Gandalf the Grey did not pass the borders of this land. He has fallen into shadow,” she said. Celeborn looked over at his wife with worry. Ginny looked down at the ground to hide the tears that were welling up in her eyes. She stubbornly wiped them away. _I am not about to show that kind of weakness._

 

“He was taken by both shadow and flame,” Legolas spoke up, “a Balrog of Morgoth. For we went needlessly into the nets of Moria.” 

 

“Needless were none of the deeds of Gandalf in his life,” Galadriel contradicted him. “We do not yet know his full purpose.” She looked over at Gimli, who was trying to hide his own grief.

 

“Do not let the great emptiness of Khazad-Dum fill your heart, Gimli son of Gloin,” she said. Gimli looked up at her, sadness in his eyes. “For the world has grown full of peril, and in all lands, love is now mingled with grief.” Ginny couldn’t help but agree with that. It was true back home as well. Galadriel stared at Boromir and he met her gaze, but eventually broke it, taking his head in his hands.

 

“What now becomes of this Fellowship?” Celeborn asked them. “Without Gandalf, hope is lost.” he said. _Okay, now wait just one minute,_ Ginny thought. _You can’t go saying that we have no hope left just because Gandalf died! Thanks for showing some damn_ faith _in us…_ Galadriel’s eyes smiled at Ginny, as if she had heard her thoughts. Outwardly, Ginny had only raised her eyebrows.

 

“The Quest stands upon the edge of a knife. Stray but a little, and it will fail to the ruin of all,” she told them. “Yet hope remains while the company is true. To not let your hearts be troubled. Go now and rest, for you are weary with sorrow and much toil. Tonight, you will sleep in peace,” she said, dismissing them.

 

* * *

 

Ginny and Aragorn sat side by side in a glade in the middle of the Golden Wood. It was getting late and around them, Gimli was asleep and the hobbits were laying out their beds provided by the elves. Boromir had withdrawn from the rest of them, sitting with his elbows resting on his knees and his head in his hands. The twins were nowhere in sight, but there was no need to worry for them. They would be fine. 

 

Aragorn was sharpening his sword, the hilt in his hand, staring down the length of the blade. Ginny was sitting next to him, both of them leaning against the wall at their backs. A beautiful, sad, and eerie song met their ears, ringing and reverberating through the trees. Ginny closed her eyes and listened, though she couldn’t understand all of what was being sung. The melody tugged at her grief, wetting her eyes with tears. Legolas entered the glade to join the rest of the Fellowship, listening as well.

 

“A lament for Gandalf,” he said sadly.

 

“What do they say about him?” Merry asked. Ginny’s ears perked up, curious.

 

“I have not the heart to tell you. For me the grief is still too near,” Legolas answered. 

 

“Bet they don’t mention his fireworks,” Sam said, getting to his feet. “There should be a verse about them. The finest rockets ever seen. They burst in stars of blue and green.” Gimli let out a loud snore, and Aragorn hit him across the midriff, startling the dwarf awake before falling back asleep. 

 

“Or after thunder, silver showers came falling like a rain of flowers- oh, that doesn’t do them justice at all.” The song continued, boring into their minds, triggering their sorrow. Ginny felt an inexplicable need for comfort, so she leaned into Aragorn’s side, nestling into a comfortable position. He extracted his arm from between them and wrapped it around her shoulders, pulling her closer. Ginny let silent tears fall. Fatigue hit her suddenly, the sleep she denied herself in Moria was finally catching up with her. She closed her eyes and drifted off into a dreamless sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! If you liked it, drop me a kudos and let me know what you liked in a comment


	12. Monolithic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> River travel can be boring, but less so when Uruk-Hai are tailing you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still don't own Harry Potter or Lord of the Rings. If I did, I'd have more shoes.

The fellowship’s time in Lothlórien was peaceful and rejuvenating. After a week, the days started to blend together, and if asked, Ginny couldn’t distinguish between the weeks and days, unable to tell what she did last week or even yesterday. However, just like their short moment of happiness before Caradhras, this peaceful time had to come to an end. The early morning of February eighteenth found the Fellowship on the shores of the Anduin, where they stood before Lord Celeborn, Lady Galadriel, and an array of other Lórien elves, there to see them off. An elf approached each member of the fellowship with a cloak in hand. The garments were light and grey, and in the correct lighting, Ginny was sure they’d be transparent. The elves fastened the cloaks around their shoulders with matching brooches in the shape of a Mallorn leaf.

 

“Never before have we clad strangers in the garb of our own people,” Celeborn said as he observed the Fellowship. “May these cloaks help shield you from unfriendly eyes.” 

 

_Elven magic,_ Ginny realized inwardly. She watched from her place in the line between George and Frodo, fourth from the end. At the other end of the line, Ginny watched as Galadriel distributed precious gifts to the Fellowship; a bow of the Galadhrim for Legolas; a golden belt for Boromir; matching daggers for Merry and Pippin; elven rope and Lothlórien soil for Sam; the light of Elendil for Frodo. Now she had reached Ginny.

 

Galadriel turned to an elf beside her who was holding a cushion with something golden resting upon it. Galadriel reached for the object and picked it up, turning to face Ginny again. The golden object was a necklace. It was a pendant in the shape of a rearing lion, its mane flowing back from its head and its tail arching upwards, almost reaching the lion's back. What struck Ginny about the piece though was the eye. Only one eye was visible in its profile view, but that one eye was a ruby embedded in the gold. _Gryffindor,_ Ginny thought, recognizing her house’s emblem in a heartbeat. Ginny lifted her hair so that Galadriel could fasten the chain around her neck. 

 

"For you, _Rawien_ , a token to remind you of your origins. May it give you courage." Galadriel said. Ginny mumbled a thank you before Galadriel moved on to George. _Rawien?_ she wondered at the name Galadriel had used. After a moment, she remembered the definition of the word. _Lioness._ Ginny smiled to herself and the beautiful pendant. It was exquisitely made and very lifelike. For a second, Ginny could have sworn that it was moving; the tail swaying back and forth and the mane blowing in the light breeze around them.

 

"Ginny?" Aragorn placed a hand on Ginny's shoulder, drawing her out of her thoughts. "We need to leave now,” he said, and Ginny could hear sadness and relief in his voice. Sadness at leaving this safe haven, and relief to be on the move again. Ginny nodded, tucking the pendant inside her shirt, and the two of them started their walk to the river Anduin. 

 

In the water were four elven boats, ready to take them all the way to the Falls of Rauros. Aragorn shared one boat with Frodo and Sam, George took another with Merry and Pippin, Boromir and Fred would take the third, and Ginny, Legolas, and Gimli were to use the fourth. As they were packing up, she overheard Legolas talking to Merry and Pippin. 

 

“Lembas,” the elf said, taking a bite out of the piece of cracker-like bread. “Elvish waybread. One small bite is enough to fill the stomach of a grown man,” he explained to the hobbits. He turned away from them to finish packing and Ginny looked over at the hobbits who were looking at each other somewhat sheepishly.

 

“How many did you eat?” Merry asked Pippin.

 

“Four,” Pippin answered before belching. Ginny raised her eyebrows at him, and he mumbled an “excuse me.” Satisfied, Ginny turned back to her packing and was tying up her bedroll when Fred and George came up next to her.

 

“Hey Gin,” Fred greeted her.

 

“Ginny-” George added.

 

“Ginevra-” Ginny glared at Fred for that one.

 

“Aglaril-”

 

“Rawien,” they finished together. Ginny rolled her eyes at them.

 

“So, she-who-must-be-named, how many is that now?” Fred continued. George started counting on his fingers with a joking attitude.

 

“Well, including our nicknames and that recent brilliancy of yours a few seconds ago, Freddie, that makes a grand total of six. Only five though, if you don’t count Gin,” he said, first holding up six fingers and then five.

 

“Keep this up, sister sibling, and you’ll end up with more names than Aragorn,” Fred remarked. Ginny rolled her eyes again.

 

“Or Estel, if you prefer,” George said.

 

“Or Strider.”

 

"Or Longshanks."

 

“Or Dunedan.”

 

“Or Elessar,” George rounded out. Ginny rolled her eyes at them again.

 

“Get in your boats, you shits, it’s time to go,” she said, noticing that the rest of the Fellowship was waiting for them. The twins mock-saluted her, and walked over to their respective boats. Ginny handed her pack to Gimli and clambered into the boat with him and Legolas. They determined that this was the best place for her, since she was lighter than anyone else in the Fellowship besides Legolas and the hobbits. They set off and those who weren’t rowing turned back to see the elves waving goodbye. The Fellowship returned the gesture until Lothlórien was out of sight. They were on their way again.

 

“I have looked my last upon that which is fairest,” Gimli said a bit wistfully once Lòrien was out of sight. "Henceforth, I will call nothing fair unless it be her gift to me,” he said to Ginny and Legolas.

 

“What was it?” Legolas asked. Somehow, the two of them had become unlikely friends during their stay in Lothlòrien. Ginny had a sneaking suspicion that Fred and George had something to do with it.

 

“I asked for one hair from her golden head,” Gimli answered, “She gave me three.” Ginny watched as the dwarf looked off into the distance, a dreamy look in his eye.

 

“And you, Ginny?” Legolas asked her. Ginny pulled the pendant out from inside her shirt to show to the elf.

 

“A reminder of where I came from,” she said, a small sad smile on her face.

 

“How so?” Legolas asked curiously. Ginny took a deep breath before answering.

 

“When I was a girl, I went to a large school, a place where children with magical abilities like mine and my brothers' would go to be educated by wiser and more accomplished adults with the same powers. It was called Hogwarts,” she started to explain. Legolas nodded along with her and so did Gimli, who was listening in to her story.

 

“The school was founded a long time ago by two wizards and two witches named Godric Gryffindor, Salazar Slytherin, Helga Hufflepuff, and Rowena Ravenclaw,” she said. “They all had different views on who should be taught magic. Ravenclaw only wanted to teach the children who were wise and smart. Gryffindor favored the brave and courageous ones, Slytherin was biased towards witches and wizards who were of exclusively magical heritage, and Hufflepuff, while she would have taught any child who could perform magic, would choose the loyal and hardworking ones if she had to.

 

“So, as a compromise, they decided to sort the students into houses, one for each founder, according to the founder’s beliefs. Even after the founder’s deaths, children were sorted like that. I was a Gryffindor,” she said.

 

“But what does the pendant have to do with any of that?” Gimli asked her, puzzled. Ginny gave a light smile.

 

“Each house had a sort of emblem or coat of arms, colors and an animal that represented it. Slytherin’s colors were green and silver, and they were the serpents; Ravenclaws were the eagles, and their colors were blue and bronze; Hufflepuffs were black and yellow, represented by badgers; and Gryffindors were lions, red and gold,” she finished, and the confusion on Gimli’s face had dissipated. 

 

“Well, lass, you are certainly worthy of the house of the brave,” Gimli said. “Your brothers too. Were they Gryffindors as well?” he asked, butchering the name.

 

“Yeah,” she confirmed. “Our whole family was in Gryffindor, our parents too.” Apparently, Fred had overheard her, because he shouted over to them.

 

“Gryffindor! Where dwell the brave at heart!” he said jovially, drawing his sword and holding it aloft. Ginny laughed at him as he and George started singing one of the sorting hat’s songs, she didn’t recognize it, so it must have been from before she started her first year. The song brought on memories of Hogwarts, but for some reason, Ginny didn’t feel that familiar pang of homesickness. She was at the point where she didn’t cry anymore because it was over, she smiled because it happened.

 

* * *

 

The first couple days of their journey down the Anduin were alright. Things were pretty calm, not much happened besides a bit of a water fight on the fourth day between the twins and Merry and Pippin, much to Boromir's chagrin. 

 

Their third morning upon the Anduin, things were quiet and still. Ginny sat in the front of her boat with Gimli while Legolas rowed from the back. She heard the rushing water on both sides and she closed her eyes to listen; just listen. She heard the continuous current, the splashing of waves against the sides of the boat, the light breeze blowing the leaves on the trees that flanked them. It was fairly quiet, but then a strange sound reached Ginny's ears. It sounded something like pounding feet and also like raging animals. Ginny opened her eyes and looked around, only to see that Legolas had stiffened - he stood stock still and Ginny assumed that e was listening to the same sound she had picked up on. 

 

"What is it? What do you hear?" Ginny asked carefully. The elf shushed her, but after a moment, gave her an answer. 

 

"Footsteps, running footsteps on the eastern shore," he replied. "Be on your guard," he cautioned Ginny and Gimli. The rest of the day passed pretty uneventfully, as did the night, though Ginny didn't get much sleep. Their fourth day was much of the same, but that night, things went to hell. Aragorn had decided to sail into the night and it was dark when they reached a stretch of rapids. 

 

"Turn back!" Aragorn called to them over the rushing water. "Turn back to the shore!" 

 

" _Shit_ , that water's going fast!" Fred shouted. The boats paused in their tracks, the towers paddling furiously against the current. George threw up a precautionary ward to keep them from entering the rapids and it saved his and Fred's boat from, most likely, a rather sad end. They managed to get back to calmer waters close to the western shore, but then, out if the darkness, there was a twang of bowstrings and a smattering of black-fletched arrows rained down on them from the eastern shore. One of them hit Frodo square in the back, but that mithril shirt of his saved him again. 

 

" _Yrch!_ " Legolas shouted, falling back to his first language and snatching up his own bow. 

 

" _Orcs!_ " Ginny translated for them, very loudly, and drew her wand. There was another barrage of arrows and this time, one caught Fred in his wand arm. He cried out in pain and his free hand flew to the wound, clutching it tightly. Back in Ginny's boat, Legolas was searching for targets in the darkness and Ginny was weaving a large-scale shield charm around the lot of them. Aragorn and Boromir were heading for shore guarding the hobbits with their bodies as best as they could, and once Ginny's shield was solid, George steered his and Fred's boat towards the western shore as well. Legolas fired a few arrows into the darkness and there were a few screeches of pain when they met their marks, but even the elf, with _his_ vision, was having a hard time finding targets. 

 

"We need to pull back to the shore, laddie," Gimli said from beside the elf as he nodded in agreement. Ginny was too busy concentrating on the shield to even nod in agreement. The sheer power it took to keep up such a large spell for even this long was already taking a toll on her. 

 

" _Protego, protego, protego,_ " she chanted under her breath, even as Legolas turned the boat to shore. She stumbled a bit when the boat ran aground, and there was a bit of a buzzing dizziness building in her skull the longer she focused on the shield charm. 

 

"Ginny, you can lift the shield, we're alright," she heard George say from a close distance. She felt his hand on her shoulder and she lifted her eyes to the eastern shore. _It's okay, you'll be alright,_ she told herself, and with shaking hands, ended the spell. It was like she had been drowning and she finally broke the surface - fresh air filled her lungs and her head began to clear. 

 

Ginny took in deep, shuddering breaths while her brother guided her out of the boat and onto shore, where the rest of the company didn't allow her to do anything but sit, eat her food, and lie down to sleep on her bedroll. Ginny protested against their mothering (mostly from Sam and Gimli, strangely enough) but they were firm. She had done plenty for them today and she would be doing no more until she'd gotten a good night's sleep. 

 

The next day was much calmer than the night before, but they were all on edge, just waiting for the orcs to attack again. Late in the afternoon, they came upon something the likes of which Ginny had never seen in her life. On either side of the river, two monolithic statues stood guard, steadily getting closer. Her jaw dropped at their sheer size; their boats could only be as large as the statues' big toes. From her position next to Aragorn, Frodo, and Sam's boat, Ginny heard the ranger talking to the Ringbearer.

 

"The Argonath,” he identified the figures, staring up at them with respect. "Long have I desired to look upon the kings of old, my kin…” he trailed off a little, lost in thought. Ginny looked over at him and saw that his face looked a little dejected, doubting himself in the shadow of his ancestors. Ginny wanted to reassure him, but she knew it would not be well received if she did so at this moment; too many curious ears were present.

 

That night, Ginny approached Aragorn once the rest of their company had laid down to rest. She checked to make sure that Legolas was truly asleep before coming up next to the ranger while he was taking the first watch of the night; Ginny was to take the second. He was sitting by the fire pit, staring into the embers pensively. She sat down beside him. 

 

"Hey," she greeted him.

 

"Hello," he replied, not taking his eyes off the flame. They sat there in silence, immersed in their respective thoughts. After a few minutes, Ginny spoke up.

 

"What's on your mind?" she asked softly, turning a little to face him. He closed his eyes for a second to collect himself before speaking.

 

"I cannot take up my place in Gondor," he said, "I do not want to, I never have. It is not my place. I am no ruler, I would fail Gondor. I cannot follow my ancestors' footsteps, they are too large for me to fill," he grimaced bitterly. "And that is what is expected of me - to rise up to that level, to forsake my way of life, to leave behind my people and take up the care of another. I cannot do it," he finished, holding his head in his hands. He looked a bit deflated, like he had been holding all that in for too long. Ginny placed a hand on his back and rubbed small circles to comfort him. _He doesn't know how wrong he is,_ she thought.

 

"Aragorn," she said firmly, "look at me." He lifted his head to look at her with tired eyes. "Don't you dare psych yourself out of this. You are the best person I can think of to occupy the throne of Gondor," she said. Aragorn opened his mouth to protest, but Ginny cut him off. "No. Actually, it's better, in my opinion, that you _don't_ want the power you're entitled to. In my experience, it's those who never wanted power but have it forced upon them who make the best leaders.

 

"The twins and I have told you about our brother, Ron, right? He's the one who's a year older than me?" she asked. Aragorn nodded. "His best friend was kind of thrown into a place of leadership amongst the students. He didn't want that responsibility, but he rose to the occasion, doing a better job than anyone who wanted to be in his place. 

 

"As for failing Gondor," she continued, "what have you been smoking lately?" she asked, making Aragorn chuckle under his breath. "Whatever it is has been messing with your judgement. You could never fail a nation, you wouldn't even consider letting that happen." Aragorn's expression had changed little, only the addition of doubt to the mix of emotions on his face. Ginny sighed. "You are not your ancestors. You don't need to follow in their footsteps." 

 

She paused, letting him think her words over.

 

"Their blood runs through my veins - their imperfections, their vulnerabilities, their weaknesses,” he protested.

 

"But also their intelligence, strength, and bravery," she continued his thought. "Besides, there's plenty of time until we reach Gondor. You have weeks - maybe months, even - to find your path to the throne," Ginny said. She grasped one of Aragorn's hands and gave it a light squeeze. He was quiet for a while before speaking again.

 

"Thank you, Ginny," he said hoarsely.

 

"You're welcome," she said with a small smile. "Get some sleep," she said, "I can finish up your watch for you."

 

"No, you go back to sleep, you didn't need to  stay awake with me," he argued, "You need your rest." Ginny gave him a disapproving glare.

 

"Don't try that with me, if I let you stay awake now, you'll be up all night!" she whispered, so as not to wake the others. 

 

"I promise you, I will not be up the whole night," Aragorn tried to reassure her. Ginny raised an eyebrow at him.

 

"And who will you wake up for the next watch if you're sending me to sleep?" she asked him skeptically.

 

"I will wake Fred in a few hours," Aragorn said. Ginny was still skeptical, but she finally agreed to get some rest. 

 

"Goodnight, Ginny," he said.

 

"Goodnight, Aragorn,” she said with a little smile before going back to her bedroll and laying down to rest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! As always, if you liked it, let me know w/ kudos or a comment!


	13. Departure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Battle sucks. Death sucks. Losing an ear fucking sucks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I still do not own Harry Potter or Lord of the Rings. If I did, I wouldn't be worried about what I'm gonna do after grad school.

In the afternoon the next day, they finally reached the falls of Rauros. They pulled the boats ashore and were quick to set up their small camp. Once everyone was settled, Aragorn addressed them all.

 

"We cross the lake at nightfall," he said, "We'll hide the boats and continue on foot. We approach Mordor from the north." Albeit an unpleasant plan, Ginny thought that it was a reasonable one. 

 

"Oh, yes?" Gimli groused, clearly of a different opinion that Ginny. "It's just a simple matter of finding our way through Emyn Muil? It's an impassable labyrinth of razor sharp rocks!" he exclaimed. Pippin, who sat next to the dwarf, was starting to look nervous. "And after that, it gets even better! Festering, stinking marshlands, far as the eye can see!" Ginny sighed. _Sure it'll be miserable, but it'll be worth it in the end if we manage to destroy that godforsaken lump of gold._  

 

"That is our road," Aragorn said simply. To Ginny, it looked like he was holding back a particularly nasty retort. "I suggest you take some rest and recover your strength, Gimli." Said dwarf spluttered indignantly at Aragorn's statement, muttering about how ridiculous it is to suggest that a dwarf would need to recover his strength. 

 

The anxiety in Ginny's gut hadn't lessened since the attack two nights go, if anything, it had only gotten stronger since they'd made camp. Something was very wrong.

 

"We should go," Legolas said to Aragorn quietly, though from her position, Ginny could hear what was being said.

 

"No, the eastern shore is guarded by orcs," Aragorn disagreed.

 

"It's not the eastern shore that worries me," Legolas said. Aragorn was stubborn, though, and remained unmoved by the elf's concerns. Legolas rolled his eyes at his friend and returned to the rest of the company, taking a seat beside Gimli. They all sat around the fire George had conjured, talking idly and watching as Sam prepared a light stew. It was nearly done when he turned from the food to ask Frodo a question, only the Ringbearer was gone.

 

"Frodo?" Sam asked. "Frodo?" The others, now alerted to the hobbit's absence, started shouting for him as well, searching the camp for any sign of where he'd gone. 

 

"Oh shit..." Ginny heard one of her brothers curse from behind her.

 

"What?" she asked, coming to stand next to Fred. He was staring at something on the ground, so Ginny followed his line of sight to see Boromir's shield, leaning against a tree, it's owner nowhere to be found. "Shit," she echoed her brother.

 

"Boromir's missing, too," she told the remaining members of the Fellowship. They gathered around in a small circle, waiting for Aragorn to decide what to do. He swept one hand across his face, looking beyond stressed.

 

"I'll go after Frodo. Legolas, Gimli, Fred, find Boromir. George, Ginny, stay here with the hobbits." They nodded at their orders, somewhat reluctantly on Ginny and George's parts, but agreed to their positions. Ginny and George watched as the four of them dashed away into the forest, and once they were almost out of sight, they turned to the hobbits.

 

"Right, we're not staying here," Ginny said. George gave her a proud grin. "I don't know about you, Georgie, but I'm going after our fearless leader." _He really needs to learn not to go off on his own. Sure he's a badass, but everyone needs backup._ "Now, you three, I think you can take care of yourselves, yeah? Just promise me one thing, if any of you run off, don't run off alone, got it?" she said seriously. The hobbits nodded in understanding. The sounds of metal clashing together reached their ears. Ginny's eyes widened. She hurriedly gave each hobbit a hug before running off after Aragorn, George a step behind her.

 

They crashed through the underbrush, all thoughts of secrecy thrown against the wind, only caring about reaching Aragorn before it was too late. They followed their ears, the sounds of battle leading them to a small ruin where Aragorn stood, fighting off countless Uruk-Hai on his own. Ginny huffed in exasperation, drawing her sword and running to his side.

 

"You-" she slashed at an Uruk's ribs, "complete-" she ducked under the same Uruk's crude sword, "idiot!" she gutted the Uruk, moving onto another one. Mingled with the clangs of metal and thuds of fallen bodies, Ginny thought she heard Aragorn's deep laughter. She shook her head at him, continuing her fight. She got into her rhythm of battle, not paying much attention to the things around her besides her enemies. That was, until she saw an Uruk about to cleave George's skull in half.

 

"George!" she screamed at him, and he moved out of the way, but not far enough; the Uruk's blade caught his ear, cutting it clean off. Ginny gasped and she started to fight her way towards her brother. 

 

"Aragorn!" she yelled. He looked over at her for a split second, showing that he'd heard her. "Cover me!" she yelled at him. He nodded and fought his way over to the Weasleys, where Ginny was hastily bandaging George's head with a strip of cloth from the hem of her shirt. _That is never going to grow back,_ she thought. 

 

"Fred knows more about healing than I do. He'll fix you up," she said hurriedly, though she wasn't quite sure who she was reassuring with those words. She managed to staunch the bleeding and George recklessly got back to his feet, fighting as best he could despite being a little shaky. 

 

They heard the sounds of battle coming from another direction and Ginny turned her head to see Legolas, Gimli, and Fred felling Uruk-Hai as quickly and efficiently as they could. They were making good progress and had finally reached the others when they heard a horn sound. 

 

"Boromir," Ginny heard Aragorn mutter. 

 

"Aragorn, go!" Legolas yelled at the man. He nodded and ran towards the sound of the horn, killing any Uruk who stood in his way. Ginny cursed to herself and ran after him, leaving George in Fred's capable hands. 

 

"Oh no you don't," she said once she caught up with him. "You are not running off on your own again," she stated as strongly as she could while running. He shook his head at her, but he knew her well enough not to try to dissuade her. They ran and ran until they reached a clearing where a lone Uruk with a bow was poised to fire an arrow into Boromir's chest. The Uruk drew the arrow back, making the bow creak from the strain. Aragorn let out a loud cry and charged at the Uruk. He managed to get him away from Boromir and now had him engaged in a fight to the death. Ginny ran to Boromir's side, gasping when she saw three arrows protruding from his chest. She knelt down next to him and made to pull one of the arrows out, but he shook his head.

 

"No. Leave it," he said weakly. Ginny looked at him sadly. She never wished more than she did then that she'd learned more about healing magic. If she had, she could save him. Without magic, nothing could be done.

 

"They took the little ones," Boromir gasped out. Ginny's jaw dropped involuntarily - _no, no, not the hobbits,_ they didn't deserve any of this. Boromir started to say something else, but Ginny heard a disgusting squelching sound and sharply looked up to see the Aragorn's blade stuck through the Uruk's stomach and the Uruk using its remaining arm to pull itself along the blade, closer to Aragorn. _Oh, that's just nasty._ The ranger pulled his sword from the Uruk's body, swiftly beheading it. Once the creature was dead, Aragorn stuck Anduril in the dirt and joined Ginny beside Boromir. 

 

"They took the little ones, Merry and Pippin," Boromir repeated himself with difficulty, thrashing slightly from the pain. "Frodo - where is Frodo?"

 

"I let Frodo go," Aragorn said softly. 

 

"Then you have done what I could not," Boromir said laboriously. He made a violent jerking movement and Ginny gently pushed him down on his back. 

 

"The Ring is beyond our reach now," Aragorn assured him.

 

"Forgive me, I did not see. I have failed you all," Boromir protested. He sounded so disappointed with himself, genuinely sorry for his actions. Aragorn made to remove the arrows, as Ginny had done, but Boromir protested again. "No, leave it! It is over. The world of men will fall and all will come to darkness. My city will fall to ruin." Tears started to well up in Ginny's eyes, but she blinked them away. She did not want to lose another companion. 

 

"I do not know what strength is in my blood," Aragorn said, throwing a quick glance to Ginny, "but I swear to you, I will not let the White City fall, nor our people fail." Boromir relaxed the tiniest bit at Aragorn's words. 

 

" _Our_ people," Boromir repeated. Aragorn nodded. "Our people," His breathing started getting heavy, deep breaths, difficult breaths. He looked down at his right, and Aragorn and Ginny followed his gaze to see him reaching for the handle of his sword. Aragorn placed it in Boromir's hand, closing his fist around it. _He will die with sword in hand._

 

"I would have followed you, my brother," Boromir said quietly. "My captain," he continued, "my King," he finished before going still. Ginny had to bite her lip to stop herself from crying out, though that did nothing for the wetness in her eyes. She reached over to Boromir and gently closed his eyes. 

 

"Rest, Boromir, son of Denethor, in the halls of your fathers," she said.

 

"Be at peace, son of Gondor," Aragorn said, taking Boromir's head in his hands. He leaned forward and pressed his lips to Boromir's forehead. Ginny furiously blinked back her tears, but despite her efforts, a few of them escaped. Aragorn looked over at her, and upon seeing the tear tracks on her face, moved so he was next to her and pulled her into a hug. Ginny welcomed his embrace, burying her face in his shirt. He rubbed her back softly, and once she was calm and the tears had passed, she pulled away. 

 

The two of them rose to their feet and turned to find their companions standing there, heads bowed in respect for Boromir. Legolas was muttering something in elvish, _a blessing_ , Ginny guessed - she couldn't hear him clearly - and Gimli held his helm in his hands, his eyes trained on the Gondorian. Fred was supporting George's weight, though the latter twin didn't look anywhere near as weak as before. _Blood-replenishing potion, maybe?_ Ginny had learned by now not to question the twins and their methods, so she let it slide without question. Although, she did feel the need to check his wound. She walked to George's side, taking his other arm around her shoulders, just like Fred had done on the other side.

 

"How're you feeling, Georgie?" she asked. George thought for a moment before answering.

 

"Saintlike," he finally said. His voice was distant, his eyes were staring off into the distance, unfocused.

 

"What do you mean, saintlike? What's wrong with him?" she directed the last part at Fred, who didn't answer her.

 

"I'm _holey,_ Gin. Geddit?" he said with a little grin, pointing at the hole where his ear had been. Ginny couldn't help the smile that appeared on her face at that.

 

"Of all the world of ear-related humor, you go for 'I'm holey,'" she said, shaking her head in mock shame. "You're pathetic," she added, her small smile still in place.

 

* * *

 

The remaining six members of the Fellowship stood solemnly at the bank of the Anduin. On the river was their fallen companion, the weapons of his enemies at his feet, sword in hand, and cloven horn above his head. They watched as he floated downstream, carried away by the river, and over the Falls of Rauros. Once he went over, the Fellowship tore their eyes from the falls, instead turning to each other.

 

"And what now? Frodo and Sam are gone, the Ring with them," Fred said pessimistically. 

 

"The Fellowship has broken. We have failed," Gimli said, his voice and expression dejected.

 

"Not if we hold true to each other," Aragorn disagreed, placing hands on Ginny's and Legolas' shoulders. "We will not abandon Merry and Pippin to death." There were nods of agreement between the remaining Fellowship. "We travel light," he said, "Let's hunt some Orc." Ginny grinned at him, following a step behind him as he ran off into the forest, following the Uruk's trail. From behind them, Ginny heard Gimli and her brothers cheering. She couldn't help the smile on her face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Boromir, my son, I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	14. Orc Hunting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And the babes keep runnin', runnin', and runnin', runnin'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright everybody, let's hunt some orc! Or at least, read about our darling characters hunting some orc.
> 
> I still don't own Harry Potter or Lord of the Rings. If I did, I could pay for a lot of other peoples' college educations, let alone my own.

“Point me, Merry and Pippin,” Fred cast, his wand flat in his palm. 

 

The young wizard stood at the head of the party, beside Aragorn and Ginny as the three of them tried to discern which way to go next. Fred’s wand spun in a few circles in his palm before stopping, pointing straight ahead of them. The three of them exchanged a look before Aragorn set off again, the rest of the fellowship right along with him.

 

* * *

 

“Point me, Merry and Pippin.” 

 

This time, it was Ginny who cast the spell as they stood upon a large slab of rock, no tracks left in sight. Her wand at first spun lazily in her hand, but then it sped up, spinning frantically - never stopping, never slowing. 

 

“Damn it,” she muttered under her breath, ending the spell and stowing her wand back in its holster. “Saruman must have placed some spells of his own on the Uruk-Hai, I can’t track them with magic,” she explained. Aragorn nodded grimly before crouching low to the ground and laying down on the rock, his ear pressed to the hard surface. Ginny and Legolas waited patiently for Aragorn to work out their course and for the other three to catch up, keeping sharp eyes on their surroundings.

 

“Their pace has quickened,” Aragorn said finally, “they have caught out scent. Hurry!” and with that, he took off, Legolas hot on his heels. Ginny lingered a bit, waiting for the others to catch up. It didn’t take long for Fred to come around the corner, grinning at his sister when he saw her waiting there. Ginny braced herself to run and fell into step with Fred once he was next to her. 

 

The six remaining members of the fellowship ran like this for days and nights, their ranks fluctuating as they went with Aragorn occasionally stopping to check the trail. 

 

On their third day, they came upon a narrow valley with tall vertical rock faces on either side and grassy dirt beneath their feet. Out of the corner of her eye, Ginny saw Aragorn stop and kneel down to pick something up out of the dirt. Stopping in her tracks, she backtracked to kneel beside him and get a good look at what he’d found. She knew it in less than a second. It was a pin in the shape of a Mallorn leaf, identical to her own and to the one worn by every other member of the Fellowship. 

 

“Not idly do the leaves of Lòrien fall,” Aragorn said, looking up at Ginny with an expression that was bordering on hope. As he spoke, Legolas slowed to a stop beside them.

 

“They may yet be alive,” the elf said, that same hope in his voice. Ginny and Aragorn nodded. 

 

“Less than a day ahead of us, come!” Aragorn determined, jumping to his feet and running ahead, Ginny and Legolas right behind him. What couldn’t have been much more than a few miles later, the six hunters came upon a vast plain of grasses and boulders. 

 

“Rohan, home of the horselords,” Aragorn informed them. “There’s something strange at work here, some evil gives speed to these creatures; sets its will against us,” he said, looking to Ginny for confirmation. 

 

“Saruman is using his magic to push them ahead, to keep up their speed, I’m sure of it,” she agreed. As she and Aragorn were talking, Legolas dashed ahead of them, looking out onto the plain. 

 

“Legolas, what do you see?” came George’s voice from just a little bit behind Ginny and Aragorn. The two of them turned back to see that George, Fred, and Gimli had caught up with them, though their attention was turned back forward at the sound of Legolas’s voice.

 

“The Uruks turn to the west,” he said. “They’re taking the hobbits to Isengard!”

 

“Shit,” Ginny cursed under her breath.

 

“Saruman,” Aragorn confirmed her fears. Ahead, Legolas took off again, followed by the rest of them. 

 

They ran through the night and by morning, they were in the midst of Rohan, the sun rising in the east. The sunrise was a dark scarlet, the sinister tone giving Ginny an uneasy feeling in her gut.

 

Their chase continued into the afternoon when they reached a wide field bordered stone. Ginny noticed Legolas turn his head sharply, but she couldn’t tell why until a few seconds later. She heard a rumbling sound - _hooves_ \- and the faint neighing of a horse. In a heartbeat, Aragorn was ushering the six of them behind a large boulder, placing a protective hand on the small of Ginny’s back as he did so. 

 

Huddling behind the boulder, the six hunters watched as hundreds of Rohirric horsemen thundered past, breathing a sigh of relief when they’d passed.

 

At least, until Aragorn got up from his crouched position and stode out into the open.

 

_Wait, what the fuck is he doing?_ Ginny asked herself while outwardly, her jaw had dropped. 

 

“Riders of Rohan!” Aragorn shouted. “What news from the mark?”

 

By Legolas’ direction, the rest of the fellowship joined him, standing together, and they watched with trepidation as the leader of these riders signaled and the mass of horses and men gracefully turned back around on the slope, barreling back down to them. The horsemen spiraled around the six hunters and as they got closer, Ginny found herself encircled by the males of the fellowship, much to her chagrin. 

 

She tried to wedge her way in between her brothers, but they stood firmly in place. She scowled at the backs of their ginger heads, instead trying to stand between Aragorn and Gimli. She got the same response. Ginny huffed, assuming Legolas would be the same, and finally stood still behind Gimli so that she could at least _see_ the riders that were aiming weapons at their heads. 

 

Spears were directed at the six hunters from all angles and as Ginny’s eyes scanned the sharp weapons, the leader of the riders spoke up from his place in front of Aragorn. 

 

“What business do men, an elf, a dwarf, and-” he paused, his eyes falling on Ginny. She met his gaze evenly, glaring up at him. “-a woman have in the Riddermark?” the man demanded. Ginny smirked to herself, pretty damn proud to have made him lose some composure. “Speak quickly!” he commanded impatiently. _You gave us, what, two seconds to answer? Merlin, hold your hippogriffs,_ Ginny silently judged him. Apparently, Gimli was just as irritated. 

 

“Give me your name horsemaster, and I shall give you mine,” the dwarf said gruffly, glaring up at the rider. The man took on a steely visage, glaring back at Gimli as he dismounted and stode over to look down at him. 

 

“I would cut off your head, _dwarf,_ if it stood but a little higher from the ground,” he said scathingly. _Oh, hell no._ Ginny pulled her wand from its holster and had it pointed at the man’s nose before anyone could stop her while simultaneously, Legolas drew and nocked an arrow, aiming it at the rider’s face. 

 

“You would die before your stroke fell!” Legolas said angrily.

 

“I’d suggest you take that back,” Ginny said just as menacingly. Tension hung, suspended, in the air as they all waited for someone to move. Eventually, Aragorn placed a hand on Legolas’s arm, making him lower his bow. Taking that as a cue, George did the same for Ginny. 

 

“I am Aragorn, son of Arathorn,” the ranger began diplomatically. “This is Gimli, son of Glóin, Legolas, son of Thranduil, and Frederick, George, and Ginevra, sons and daughter of Arthur,” he introduced them. _Really? Our full names? Was that necessary, mellon-nin?_ “We are friends of Rohan, and of Théoden, your king.”

 

“Théoden no longer recognizes friend from foe,” the rider informed them, taking off his helmet and freeing his shoulder length blonde hair. “Not even his own kin,” he said grimly. “I am Éomer son of Éomund, and Third Marshal of the Riddermark,” he introduced himself. “The white wizard is cunning,” he went on to caution (or perhaps threaten) them, “he walks here and there, they say, as an old man hooded and cloaked and everywhere his spies slip past our nets.”

 

“We are no spies,” Aragorn assured Éomer. “We track a party of Uruk-Hai across the plain. They have taken two of our friends captive.”

 

“The Uruk-Hai are destroyed, we slaughtered them during the night,” Éomer said. “We piled the carcasses and burned them,” he continued, pointing across the pain to a plume of dark smoke rising form what must have been the Uruk carcasses. Ginny felt her face fall and anxiety begin to writhe and coil in her gut. 

 

“But there were two hobbits!” Gimli persisted. “There were two hobbits with them!” Éomer only gave the group a blank look, clearly telling them that he’d never heard of hobbits before.

 

“They’d be small,” George spoke up.

 

“About the size of children,” Fred continued. Éomer shook his head.

 

“We left none alive,” he said gravely.

 

“Dead?” Ginny asked faintly, her grief coming out in her tone of voice.

 

“I am sorry,” Éomer said, and he looked it. He looked genuinely sorry for their loss once he laid eyes upon their stricken expressions. He bowed his head with them for a moment, sharing in their grief, before raising his head once more and letting out a shrill whistle. “Hasufel, Arod, Léobuhr,” he called. The ring of riders split and three grand horses were brought to the center. “May these horses bear you to better fortune than their former masters,” he said. Turning back to his own steed, Éomer swiftly and expertly mounted it, looking down at them again once he was seated. “Look for your friends, but do not trust a hope,” he cautioned them. “It is forsaken in these lands.”

 

“We ride north!” he called to his men. All at once, the riders dispersed, following their leader. The six hunters watched until they were out of sight and then turned to each other and the horses. Fred and George quickly mounted Hasufel and Legolas removed Arod’s saddle before hopping onto the steed’s back. Aragorn helped Gimli up onto Arod behind Legolas before mounting Léobuhr, followed by Ginny. They set off with Ginny and Aragorn at the head of the group and as they rode, she wrapped her arms around the ranger’s waist to help keep her place in the saddle. 

 

Resting her head on Aragorn’s back, Ginny took a moment to let herself think. _Merry? Pippin? Dead? No, they can’t be. They’re too damn alive. But what if they did get killed? What if the Uruks killed them, what if they were underfoot when Éomer and his men stormed the camp? No,_ she stopped that train of thought. _They’re clever. They could find their way out of anything. Couldn’t they?_

 

Ginny’s thoughts remained on the two lost hobbits until she was distracted by the acrid fumes of burning flesh. She lifted her head to see that they were coming up on the pile of Uruk corpses. As they slowed to a stop, she dismounted, followed by Aragorn, and simply stood there. Shock kept her immobile as the others circled the pile, searching for any and all signs of the two hobbits. It was Gimli’s voice that brought the witch out of her daze. 

 

“It’s one of their wee belts,” the dwarf said and when Ginny looked over at him, she saw that he was holding one of the belts given to Merry and Pippin by Lady Galadriel, the beautiful belts with the intricate dagger sheaths. Ginny felt her knees weaken beneath her and she fell to the ground, kneeling before the stinking, smoking pile. She heard Leoglas murmuring something, a blessing probably, but it was too faint for her to make out. Her attention was diverted from the pile once more by Aragorn this time, as he kicked the head of an Uruk with all his strength, letting gout an anguished yell and falling to his knees. 

 

Ginny had never seen him lose his composure like that and while it scared her a bit, it stirred empathy in her and she found the strength to rise to her feet and approach Aragorn, crouching beside him and laying a hand lightly between his shoulder blades. In spite of everything, her presence and solidarity was comforting to Aragorn, though he kept his gaze on the ground, not trusting himself to keep a straight face when confronted with Ginny’s grief-stricken one. So instead he studied the ground beneath him. His eyes ran over gravel and dirt, finally settling on an indent in the grass. 

 

“A hobbit lay here,” he told Ginny quietly, gently fingering the spot, “and the other.” He examined the ground, his eyebrows furrowing ever so slightly with concentration. “They crawled,” he said, curiosity creeping into his voice. He got to his feet, though he remained crouched low to the ground to follow the tracks. “Their hands were bound,” he realized, and he knew that Ginny was close behind him. “Their bonds were cut!” he realized, plucking a severed rope from the dirt. Aragorn got to his feet, following a trail visible only to his sharply trained eyes. 

 

“They ran over here,” he said, now drawing the attention of the others. “They were followed.” By now, the twins were following too. “The tracks lead away from the battle!” Aragorn said excitedly. They were all behind him now, listening intently to the ranger’s observations until he came to a stop at the edge of a forest, the branches looming darkly over their heads. “And into Fangorn Forest,” he finished, trailing off a bit.

 

“Fangorn?” Gimli asked worriedly. “What madness drew them in there?”

 

Ginny shook her head. She didn’t know for sure, none of them did, but there was a general feeling of foreboding in the air as they stood before the trees, under the branches. They must have stood there for a good minute until anyone moved. Fred started to head into the wood, but Ginny stopped him with a hand on his arm. 

 

“It’s getting dark,” she pointed out, and she was right. The sun was was low in the sky and the sky itself was beginning to darken. 

 

“We should make camp, get a fresh start in the morning,” Aragorn agreed, and the rest of their company reluctantly agreed. 

 

The company made their camp under a spreading tree, the branches providing some shelter overhead even though there were roots sticking up out of the ground beneath them. They lit a fire, Ginny, Fred, and George placed some wards and warming charms to ward off the late February chill. After awhile of sitting together in silence around said fire, Aragorn was the first to go to bed, closely followed by Ginny, Legolas, and the twins with Gimli standing watch. 

 

Ginny had been asleep for what could only have been a few hours when she was roused awake by Gimli, who had already woken Aragorn and Legolas. 

 

“What’s going on?” she asked a bit groggily, looking to Aragorn for answers. He only nodded towards the open plain, and when she followed his gaze, she saw an old bent man, leaning on a staff and wrapped in a cloak, his wide-brimmed hat pulled low over his eyes. He didn’t move and he didn’t say a word. Out of the corner of her eye, Ginny noticed Aragorn getting to his feet and cautiously approaching the old man. 

 

“Who is there?” he called to the man, and his voice wokeFred and George, who joined the rest of them in staring at Aragorn like he was crazy. “Come and be warm, if you are cold,” Aragorn called out again to the man, but he was gone. There was no trace of the old man, he had simply disappeared and none of them were terribly eager to go looking for him. Suddenly, the silence was broken by a shout.

 

“The horses!” Legolas cried, “the horses!” The rest of them whirled around to see what he was talking about and where the horses had stood, tied to stakes they had driven into the ground, they were gone. they had run off. Ginny thought she heard the faintest sound of neighing and whinnying in the distance. 

 

“God _damn_ it,” Ginny cursed harshly. 

 

“Well,” George started, “they’re gone,” he said, stating the obvious. 

 

“No point in going after them, we’ll never catch them,” Fred added. The rest of them nodded in agreement, though rather grudgingly. 

 

“We still have our feet,” George said with a shrug and a wry smile. 

 

“Feet?” Gimli scoffed. “Fat lot of good these sore and tired feet will do us.”

 

“Just a few hours ago you were all for continuing on foot when the alternative was horseback,” Legolas pointed out with a smirk. 

 

They all shared a laugh at that, but after a few moments, most of their thoughts had returned to the old man. 

 

“You know what I think?” Gimli spoke up again, drawing their attention. “I think it was Saruman. Éomer said after all that he walked these plains, hooded and cloaked.”

 

“He does have a point there,” Fred agreed. 

 

“But it was a hat upon his head, not a hood,” Aragorn pointed out. 

 

“Still creepy as fuck, though,” Ginny added under her breath, drawing half a smile from Aragorn. “Whoever he was, he’s long gone, let’s just get some sleep and worry about it in the morning,” she suggested. The rest of them readily agreed, Aragorn volunteering to take the next watch and Fred after him, the night passing without further incident. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Any thoughts on the little book scene at the end? Let me know in a comment!


	15. Sentience

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Gandalf levels up; more spells, new wardrobe, but that charisma stat is still p average.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still do not own Harry Potter or Lord of the Rings. If I did, my university's exorbitantly expensive housing options wouldn't be a problem. 
> 
> Enjoy!

When morning came, Aragorn found Merry and Pippin’s trail once more and led their way, every now and then stopping to crouch and examine the faint prints in the dirt and foliage. Ginny couldn't ignore the foreboding feeling that surrounded her, closing in, almost stuffy. The air felt unnaturally close and thick, like an invisible fog surrounded them all. She warily eyed the forest around her, fully on edge and ridiculously jumpy. She heard someone spit from behind her and turned to see Gimli with a disgruntled expression on his face. 

 

"Orc blood," the dwarf spat, wiping his fingers clean on his beard. Now, if one had been able to see the faces of all three Weasleys present in that moment, it would've been extremely difficult not to laugh at the way they all raised an eyebrow the same way at exactly the same time.

 

"How do you know," Fred started. 

 

"What Orc blood tastes like?" George finished. Ginny turned her head to better hear the story, but in her inattention to her feet and where they were being placed, she tripped over a tree root and would've fallen on her face had Aragorn not caught her by the arm. 

 

"Thanks," she said, giving him a half smile that he returned. They walked onward, stopping every so often for Aragorn to find the trail again. 

 

"These are strange tracks," he muttered as he knelt down before a large imprint in the ground. Ginny knelt beside him to examine it, finding an extremely large circular print with odd tendrils extending from all angles. Behind them, Legolas said something about how old the forest was, and almost in response, the groaning and wheezing sounds of the trees crescendoed to a roar. Ginny stood up, her eyes scanning the trees warily. She turned back the way they came to see Gimli holding up his axe in a paranoid manner, bringing it higher as the trees got louder. 

 

"Hey Gimli," Fred said, getting the dwarf's attention. 

 

"Lower your axe," George continued, motioning for him to do so. 

 

"You're scaring the trees, I think," Ginny finished the thought her brothers started. She looked to Legolas for confirmation of her guess and he nodded.  

 

"The trees have feelings, my friend," Legolas said to Gimli. The dwarf complied, and the party journeyed on. Ginny fell back to walk with her brothers and as she looked up at the trees, she couldn't help but be reminded of the flora at Hogwarts. 

 

"Kinda makes you miss the Forbidden Forest, huh," Ginny remarked, commenting on just the sinister atmosphere of Fangorn. The twins laughed in agreement. 

 

"At least there's no whomping willow, though," George said. Ginny couldn't help but feel that George had just jinxed himself. Apparently, Fred had the same feeling. 

 

"Bet you're wrong," Fred disagreed. 

 

"Seriously? You bet there's a Whomping Willow in Arda?" George fired back.

 

" _Well_ ," Fred consented, dragging out the word, "maybe not a _Whomping Willow_ , but moving trees at least. Real, proper, moving trees," he settled on. 

 

"Fine," George said before lowering his voice. "Loser has to successfully pull a trick - approved by Gin -"

 

"Hey! I never said I'd be a part of this!" Ginny protested.

 

"- approved by Gin - on..."  George plowed on, but paused, mentally debating who to victimize, "a person of the victor's choice," he finished. Fred raised his eyebrows.

 

"Deal." Fred extended his hand to George and the twins shook on it, sealing the bet. Ginny shook her head at them in mock disappointment, betrayed by the grin on her face.

 

They plodded on for awhile longer until the silence they had fallen into was broken by Legolas.

 

"Aragorn, _something is out there_ ," he said urgently in elvish. The elf rushed to a good vantage point, followed by the rest of them.

 

" _What do you see?_ " Aragorn asked in the same tongue. Gimli looked ready to protest the language barrier, but Fred noticed this and stopped the Dwarf before he could do so. Legolas must have noticed too, for his speech returned to the common tongue. 

 

"The White Wizard approaches," he said, nodding in the correct direction. Ginny carefully unsheathed one of her daggers and in her peripheral vision, noticed the others readying their weapons as well. 

 

"Do not let him speak," Aragorn cautioned, "he will put a spell on us." They nodded in understanding. Ginny caught Aragorn's eye to see them hardened with determination. "We must be quick." He mouthed the word "one," then "two," and on "three," the six hunters whirled about, throwing daggers and axes, shooting arrows and spells, and drawing swords for a battle. But none of their attacks had any effect. Everything bounced off of some sort of shield and the hilt of Aragorn's sword heated up instantaneously, almost burning his hands before be dropped it. Bright light shone from their target, nearly blinding them. They shielded their eyes from the light for a few seconds before it faded enough to be bearable. 

 

"You are tracking the footsteps of two young hobbits," came a deep voice from the light. 

 

"Where are they?" Ginny asked commandingly. 

 

"They passed this way, the day before yesterday," the voice said casually, but it only put them more on edge. "They met someone they... did not expect. Does that comfort you?" Ginny felt her jaw drop incredulously. _No! Of course it doesn’t!_

 

"Who are you?" Aragorn demanded. "Show yourself!" he commanded the figure, Aragorn's own voice powerful, strong, and wary.  They watched in trepidation as the figure in the light moved towards them and they all tensed, preparing themselves for a fight should the need arise. The light diminished, revealing a face they hadn't seen since Moria. But he was different. Gone were the old and tattered grey robes and pointed hat; in their place were robes of pure white and a pristine white staff to match. 

 

"Gandalf?" Fred breathed in disbelief. 

 

"How - how are you - how did you -" George started, tripping over his words and finally cutting himself off. Out of the corner of her eye, Ginny noticed Aragorn, Gimli, and Legolas kneeling before the wizard, but she was too stunned to move.  She vaguely heard Legolas and Gimli apologizing in the background, but her attention was on her previously fallen mentor. 

 

"But - you fell!" Aragorn said, puzzled and requesting explanation. 

 

"Through fire," Gandalf began, "and water," he continued. "From the lowest dungeon to the highest peak, I fought the Balrog of Morgoth," he recounted. "Until at last, I threw down my enemy and smote his ruin upon the mountainside. 

 

"Darkness took me," he said, his tone falling a bit, "and I strayed out of thought and time. Stars wheeled overhead and every day was as long as a life-age on earth," he said. "But it was not the end," he contradicted himself. "I felt _life_  in me again," he explained. "I've been sent back," he said, "until my task is done." He finished with a small smile. 

 

"Gandalf," Ginny and Aragorn said together. Gandalf's face took on a puzzled expression, as if he was trying to recall some very old memory that you can vaguely picture but not quite clearly enough. 

 

"Gandalf?" he asked, that puzzled expression coming out in his voice. After a moment, it was replaced by satisfaction and clarity. "Yes," he said, "that is what they used to call me," he recalled. His face now took on that infuriating look that was so familiar to Ginny. The one that emitted an air of his knowledge, the one that said that Gandalf knew something you didn't and he was _fully_  aware of that. "Gandalf the Grey," he continued, "that was my name." His eyes twinkled in that Dumbledore-ish way and he grinned at Ginny and Aragorn. "I am Gandalf the White," he corrected, "and I come back to you now, at the turn of the tide," he said. Gandalf ignored their reactions and went ahead, leading the six hunters out of Fangorn. 

 

"One stage of your journey is over," Gandalf spoke as he walked ahead of them all, "but another begins," he said. "You must travel to Edoras with all speed."

 

"Edoras?" Gimli asked disbelievingly. "That is no short distance!" Fred and George nodded in agreement. 

 

"We hear of trouble in Rohan," Aragorn explained to Gandalf at the head of their makeshift column. "It goes ill with the king."

 

"Yes," Gandalf agreed, "and it will not be easily cured." 

 

"Then we have run all this way for nothing!" Gimli grumbled from the back. "How we can leave those poor hobbits here in this horrid, dark, dank, tree-infested-" as Gimli insulted the forest, the branches and trunks groaned at him in warning. "I mean, charming - quite charming - forest," Gimli corrected himself hurriedly. Fred and George laughed at his quick save. 

 

"It was more than mere chance that brought Merry and Pippin to Fangorn," Gandalf said, explaining to the company why the hobbits were to be left in Fangorn and turning around to better address them all. "A great power has been sleeping here for many years," he said. "The coming of Merry and Pippin will be like the falling of small stones that starts an avalanche in the mountains." Ginny raised an eyebrow at him. _Really, the only difference is the color of his robes and the absence of his hat,_  she thought. _Still as cryptic as ever._

 

"In one thing you have not changed, dear friend," Aragorn said with a rare smile. Gandalf made a little questioning noise, prompting an explanation. 

 

"You still speak in riddles," Ginny obliged, having been in the same train of thought as Aragorn. Gandalf smiled and chuckled at their observation. The wizard allowed them a few moments of merriment before growing serious again. 

 

"A thing is about to happen that has not happened since the Elder Days," he said. _Well, that's specific._  "The Ents are going to wake up," he said. _Ents?_  Ginny shot a questioning look back to Fred and George, only to be met with the same confused expression she wore. "And find that they are strong,” Gandalf finished, either oblivious to or ignoring the Weasleys’ confusion.

 

"Strong?" Gimli remarked, answered again by the groaning of the trees around him. "Oh that's good," he said a bit shakily, still eyeing the foliage warily. 

 

"So stop your fretting, master dwarf," Gandalf snapped at the dwarf, "Merry and Pippin are quite safe. In fact, they are far safer than you are about to be!" he said before resuming his lead. Ginny heard Gimli clambering over roots and rocks to catch up. 

 

"This new Gandalf's grumpier than the old one!" Gimli said, and Ginny couldn't help but laugh at that remark. She didn't notice, but a small smile crept onto Aragorn's face at the sound of her laughter. They walked on, following Gandalf, until they reached the edge if the forest. As soon as they exited, Ginny felt like an extreme weight had been lifted off her shoulders. She felt free, almost as if she'd been submerged in water that whole time in Fangorn, and she had finally resurfaced. The air was lighter, easier on her lungs, and the light! The light was such a welcome change from the dark and shadowed visibility within the wood. 

 

Gandalf stepped out from their little rank and whistled. It wasn't the kind of whistle you hear from a drunken man when he sees a woman across the street, nor was it the kind of whistle one makes when trying to get a group's attention. This was a clear and ringing whistle, starting on a beautifully high note, then dropping almost an octave, the tone rich with vibrato. They waited for a few seconds for something to happen and were not disappointed. They heard a horse's neigh in the distance, shortly followed by a pure white horse galloping towards them. A little ways behind it were three more horses, three that looked awfully familiar to the six hunters. 

 

"That is one of the maeras," Legolas said, concerning the pure white horse, "unless my eyes are cheated by some spell." Ginny shook her head. No spells going on here. Once the horses were close, they slowed down, going to their masters. Hasufel went to the twins, Arod came to Legolas, Léobuhr trotted over to Ginny, and the pure white horse stopped in front of Gandalf. 

 

"Shadowfax," the wizard said, stroking the horse's nose, "he is the lord of all horses." Gandalf ran his fingers through his horse's mane, looking at Shafowfax as one would look at a best friend. "And has been my friend through many dangers." Gandalf swung atop his horse and looked down at the others expectantly. Fred and George grinned at the wizard and mounted Hasufel, trotting over beside him. Ginny mounted Léobuhr and Aragorn helped Gimli up onto Arod behind Legolas before joining her. They all came up next to Gandalf, awaiting his command. 

 

"Let us be off," he said, digging his heels into Shadowfax's flanks and shooting off towards Edoras, the others right behind. 

 

They rode into the night and made a small camp. Despite the rocky and gravelly space her bedroll was set out on, she fell asleep as soon as her head hit her makeshift pillow. They had gone nearly four days without sleep and it had taken quite a toll on her energy levels. It had only been adrenaline keeping her going for those long hours and now that they had a chance to rest in relative peace, she took that chance wholeheartedly. She slipped into blissful sleep that night only to be awakened what seemed like minutes later. Alas, her perception of time was far from correct. 

 

"Ginny, Ginny, wake up," someone was shaking her shoulder gently, trying to rouse her from sleep. She grumbled and rolled over, away from the offending person trying to separate her from her beloved sleep. "Ginny, you must wake up. Gandalf wishes to reach Edoras by the afternoon," the person said. _Aragorn_ , Ginny identified the voice. 

 

"No... I dn wanna gidup," she mumbled grumpily. The hand on her shoulder disappeared and for a second, Ginny reveled in her triumph. It was a terribly short second though, for she felt a cold draft as her blanket was taken from her and heard someone directing a few others. She barely registered the arms beneath her, but if she had, she surely would have stopped this. Before she knew it, she was being lifted off the ground and subsequently set on her feet. That woke her up. Ginny blinked the sleep out of her eyes before she turned them on Aragorn, who had woken her up against her will. 

 

"Was that really necessary?" she asked him tiredly, yawning as she spoke. Aragorn quirked an eyebrow at her. 

 

"Would you have been happier had I let your brothers wake you?" he asked her. Ginny's eyes widened, the yawn threatening to escape her mouth dying in her throat. 

 

"I thought not," Aragorn said with a rare smirk. Ginny rolled her eyes at him and slapped him on the arm. 

 

"Oh let's just go already," she said, turning around and crouching down to clear away her bedroll and pack her things. Once she was packed, she joined Aragorn on Léobuhr's back, noting that she was the last one and therefore was holding them up, and they set off once again.


	16. Unsettling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's truly amazing how much Wormtongue resembles both Pettigrew and Snape. I also firmly believe that he needs to be on Middle Earth's list of sex offenders.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own Harry Potter or Lord of the Rings. If I did, I wouldn't be eating ramen for lunch today.
> 
> Enjoy!

Gandalf pushed them, insisting that they keep up the strenuous pace despite the toll it was taking on both the horses and their riders. They rode through the day, never stopping, rarely slowing, not even pausing for a midday meal. Ginny didn't like this method of travel, but she couldn't deny it's effectiveness. By sometime in mid afternoon, around three or four, Ginny guessed from the sun, they followed Gandalf over the crest of a hill, pleasantly surprised to see Shadowfax standing still, his rider looking out at the city in the distance. The others slowed down, stopping on either side of the wizard. 

 

"Edoras," he said, "and the golden hall of Meduseld." Ginny put a hand on Aragorn's shoulder in front of her, gently pushing down in a silent request to slouch so she could see. up on top of a huge hill was a sprawling city, with a large hall at the top. "There dwells Théoden, King of Rohan, whose mind is overthrown." Fred and George's faces took on dark looks. They had trusted that wizard and he had betrayed them. Betrayed everyone! "Saruman's hold on King Théoden is now very strong," Gandalf said. "Be careful what you say. Do not look for welcome here." 

 

And with that, Gandalf and Shadowfax were off again, leaving the others to follow behind. Ginny kept her eyes on the dark and gloomy looking city and her gaze fell upon something white. She squinted to try to get a better look, and found that it was a woman. A woman in a white gown. They got closer to the gate and Edoras's surrounding wall blocked the woman from Ginny's view. Out of the corner of her eye, Ginny saw something fluttering in the air. She turned her head towards it and saw a piece of cloth falling from seemingly nowhere. As it got closer to the ground, Ginny identified it as a flag of Rohan, a green banner bordered with gold, a rearing white horse in the center. Ginny wasn't sure why, but it made her sad. Her attention was torn from the fallen flag by the sound of the gates opening. 

 

They entered the city and slowly rode up the street. If Gandalf was right - _ha, **if**  Gandalf's right_ - about King Théoden's sickness, then the people were a reflection of their King. Ginny did not see a single smile among them as they watched the newcomers with wary eyes. 

 

"You'll find more cheer in a graveyard," Gimli remarked. Ginny nodded her head in agreement. They continued on until they reached the steps leading up to Meduseld. There they dismounted. Ginny noticed Gandalf taking and donning one of the twins' cloaks from Lothlórien, but chose not to question it. They ascended the stairs, Gandalf at the head with Aragorn and Legolas on either side of him, Ginny and Gimli behind, and the twins bringing up the rear. They reached the landing but were stopped from entering the hall by guards. One of the men slipped inside the hall and in his absence, the remains of the Fellowship stood together, an impressive line on the threshold of Meduseld. The guard exited the hall and turned to face them with a grim expression. 

 

"I cannot allow you before Théoden King so armed, Gandalf Greyhame," he said. "By order of... Grima Wormtongue," he continued, his lip curling lightly in well-hidden disgust over the name. Gandalf nodded at them and they began to strip themselves of their weapons. 

 

From an observer's point of view, the scene was quite the amusing one. The weapons never seemed to stop. Of course they started with their major weapons, Aragorn - with a warning of course - giving up Anduril, Gandalf surrendering Glamdring, Ginny and the twins handing over their swords, Legolas his bow, and Gimli his large battle axe. But then came the smaller weapons. Aragorn and Ginny had their bows, the three Weasleys - only when directly asked to - reluctantly gave up their wands, Legolas unsheathed his twin blades, and Gimli relinquished his many throwing axes. However, they were not finished even then. 

 

Excepting Gandalf, they all had daggers or small knives concealed on their bodies and spent at least a minute getting them loose. Ginny pulled a knife from each sleeve, another from her coat, and a fourth from her right boot. She considered taking out the one she had beneath her shirt, but decided against it. Their company was the embodiment of "heavily armed," and Ginny had to fight the growing smirk at the building unease in the body language of the guards as they handed over nearly every weapon that wasn't a body part. Finally they were finished and looked to the higher ranking guard expectantly. 

 

"Your staff," he said to Gandalf, gesturing to the object. At that, Gandalf took on a disappointed and slightly hurt look and leaning on his staff. 

 

"Oh," he said, his body language coming out in his tone of voice. "You would not part an old man from his walking stick," he protested gently, his weight still apparently supported by his 'walking stick.' The guard sighed and looked about to protest, but let them in. The doors were opened wide and the company entered. Ginny caught a wink from Gandalf and had to bite her lip to stop herself from smiling. _Not sure if that's Weasley influence it if it's just him,_ the witch remarked inwardly. 

 

Inside the hall, they saw a space that had the potential to be grand, warm, and welcoming, but instead was cold, intimidating, and distant. On the throne at the end of the hall sat a decrepit, pale, and hunched old man, dressed in layers of dirty furs with a tarnished golden crown atop his head of thin and scraggly  white hair. King Théoden, Ginny thought. She felt a pang of sympathy for the man, guessing that his unkempt state was also an effect of Saruman's control on his mind. 

 

Beside the King was a pale man in black. He sat next to the throne, his hands resting on the arm of the throne, his head leaning towards the King. The man instantly reminded Ginny of Snape. Even from the distance they stood at, she could see the greasiness of the man's hair, the sickly pale and equally greasy sheen to his skin. Well, maybe that was a bit of an exaggeration, but it wasn't too far from the truth. Behind them, the doors slammed shut with a boom, but the company took no notice. 

 

"The courtesy of your hall is somewhat lessened of late, Théoden King," Gandalf addressed the King. Ginny saw the Snape look-alike lean over to whisper something in the King's ear and felt her lip subconsciously curl up in disgust. 

 

"Why should I welcome you," the King inquired, his voice frail and wavering, "Gandalf Stormcrow?" The six newcomers continued to approach the throne and Ginny watched in disgust as the Snape look-alike whispered something else to the King. Snape's look-alike stood up then, approaching Gandalf. As he walked, his posture hunched and slouching, he addressed the wizard. 

 

"Late is the hour in which this conjurer chooses to appear," he said, his voice slick with malice. 

 

Ginny was sorely tempted to curse the man to kingdom come - both with a bat-bogey hex and with some select bits of foul language - but she stopped herself. She needn't interfere. Gandalf had everything under control.  _You also don't have your wand, dumbass,_ she remembered belatedly.

 

"Lathspell, I name him," the man continued. "Ill news is an ill guest." 

 

"Be silent!" Gandalf snapped, quickly abandoning the old man routine. "Keep your forked tongue behind your teeth. I did not pass through fire to bandy crooked words with a witless worm." Ginny cheered inside her head at Gandalf's verbal lashing of the man, but the only outward reaction she showed was a little smirk. Gandalf then lifted his staff and raised it threateningly against the Snape look-alike. The snake-like man blanched, his face becoming paler than Ginny thought was possible. 

 

"His staff," the man said a bit fearfully, "I _told_  you to _take the wizard's staff!_ " he said angrily to the guards. _This must be Wormtongue, then. Hm. Name fits,_ Ginny thought. She was brought out of her musings, though, by movement on all sides. The guards were advancing and in the midst of it all, Gandalf was approaching King Théoden. Up until this point the guards had ignored her for the most part, but they must have remembered either that she was there in the first place or how many weapons she'd had, for they began to come at her as well as the rest of the company. 

 

She threw a solid punch straight into one of the guard's faces, the sudden adrenaline rush distracting her from the pain. One guard was coming up behind Aragorn, and she maneuvered her way through the fight to take him down with a swift kick behind the knees. He hit his head hard on the stone floor and Ginny hoped that he would be dazed long enough for them to leave him there. Out of the corner of her eye, Ginny noticed Wormtongue trying to slip away. She narrowed her eyes and went to stop him, but the twins got there first, one if them knocking him down and the other placing a foot on his back as he lay face down. Their company made short work of the King's guards and they now turned their attention back to Gandalf and the King. 

 

“Harken to me!” Gandalf said to the decrepit man. “I release you from this spell,” he said, extending his hand out towards the King. Gandalf paused, concentrating on the flow of his magic, but was interrupted by an eerie laugh. It was mockingly triumphant, almost sinister, and sent uneasy chills down Ginny’s spine.

 

"You have no power here, Gandalf the Grey," the King said in a voice _very_  different from the one he'd spoken with earlier. It was strong now, and malicious. Gandalf brought one hand up to the clasp of the borrowed grey cloak he wore and in that second, Ginny understood the plan. Gandalf removed the grey cloak, revealing his robes of pure white, making Théoden's body recoil. 

 

“I will draw you, Saruman, as poison is drawn from a wound,” he said, thrusting the tip of his staff towards Théoden’s face, the King’s features contorted with rage. His body slammed against the back of his throne, his arms writhing against the seat as he tried to sit forward, fighting against Gandalf’s magic.

 

A woman entered the room from a corridor off to the side, and upon the sight of the King, she rushed forward, only to be stopped by Aragorn. Ginny recognized her as the woman she had seen standing outside of Meduseld as they'd approached the city. Aragorn urged her to wait and she complied, remaining where she was. _In his arms..._ Ginny noted to herself. _Stop it, Gin, it doesn’t matter. You don’t need to get jealous - jealous? That’s ridiculous,_ Ginny tried to convince herself. She stubbornly pushed that thought away, along with the bristling feeling in her gut. She’d think about that later. Back up at the throne, Théoden’s distorted voice brought her out of her thoughts.

 

“If I go, Théoden dies,” the King proclaimed, a wildly angry and vicious look in his eyes. Gandalf responded by once again using his magic to slam the man against the back of the throne, making the wooden object creak with strain.

 

“You did not kill me,” Gandalf stated, “you will not kill him,” he continued, all his focus on the man before him. Théoden strained again to lean forward, his clouded eyes trained on the wizard. 

 

“Rohan is mine,” he persisted. 

 

“Begone,” Gandalf commanded, advancing further on the king and thrusting his staff again, throwing the possessed man against his throne again. Théoden mustered up his strength and lunged at Gandalf, only for the wizard to force him back into his seat.

 

Slowly, Gandalf lowered his staff. Back in the throne, Théoden slumped over, groaning lightly and slowly leaning forward. Ginny heard a gasp from the blonde woman and turned to see what was wrong, only to find her rushing up to the throne, to the King. the woman caught him before he could fall onto the floor, gently guiding him back upright. The King took in deep breaths, gulping down oxygen almost as if he’d been holding his breath for too long.

 

Ginny watched in amazement as he changed before their eyes. It reminded her of polyjuice potion, the way his eyes cleared up, his hair darkened, and his color returned to his face. Where there had previously been a decrepit and dirty old man there was now a strong and healthy King. Ginny thought he might have said something to the woman, but she couldn’t quite make out. But what she did notice was the smile that grew on his face upon the sight of the blonde woman, his eyes full of fatherly love. Théoden tore himself from the woman, turning his eyes to Gandalf, muttering the wizard’s name questioningly. 

 

“Breathe the free air again, my friend,” he said. From behind the wizard, Ginny didn’t have to see his face to know he was smiling; she could hear it in his voice. Slowly, and with help from the blonde woman, Théoden rose to his feet. 

 

“Dark have been my dreams of late,” the King said, his voice low and a bit hoarse from lack of use. His eyes traveled from his feet to Gandalf to the woman at his right, and finally landing on his left hand. The King stared fixedly at it, flexing and extending his grimy fingers like he was trying to relieve a muscle cramp.

 

“Your fingers would remember their old strength better,” Gandalf said, bringing the King’s gaze back to him, “if they grasped your sword.”

 

Out of the corner of her eye, Ginny noticed one of the guards coming forward, a sheathed sword in his hands. The guard bowed to the King and offered up the sword to him, presenting the hilt. Slowly, Théoden reached for his sword. He places his palm on the hilt, gently wrapping his fingers around it and cherishing the feel of the leather and metal under his fingers once again. Then, he tightened his grip and strongly pulled the blade from its sheath, holding it aloft. His eyes traveled from the tip of the blade slowly down to the hilt, drinking it all in as if he’d never seen the sword before. As she watched, Ginny saw his eyes turn from wonder to anger, his gaze shifting from the sword to the writhing man restrained by the twins. After a nod from the King, two guards seized Wormtongue and dragged him through the doors and outside the hall, bodily throwing him down the steps. Upon his impact with the hard stone, Wormtongue groaned in pain, curling in on himself like an injured animal. But that pain wasn’t what was seen. All that anyone present saw in the wretched heap on the steps was a traitor. A filthy, traitorous, manipulative leech. 

 

Théoden marched down the steps leading up to Meduseld, a large and imposing presence bearing down on Wormtongue. The wind whipped around them as they walked behind Théoden, blowing their hair into their faces and making their cloaks and robes swirl around their ankles. King Théoden kicked his fur-lined robes out of his way, angrily shifting his grip on his sword. Ginny’s attention, which had been on the furious king, was drawn to the leech on the steps as he tried to worm his way out from under the King’s wrath. 

 

“I’ve only ever served you, my lord!” he said, begging pathetically. _I seriously doubt that,_ Ginny thought to herself. Despite the fact that she had only just met King Théoden, she had heard plenty of stories about him - stories about a good and just king - and she was angry at the pathetic lump of flesh begging for his life. Her fingers were itching for her wand and she could feel her magic welling up inside her, searching for an outlet she could use to curse Wormtongue into the next age.

 

“Your leechcraft would’ve had me crawling on all fours like a _beast!_ ” Théoden countered, his voice getting harsher as he spoke, his feet taking him further down the steps and causing Wormtongue to slither back away from him, scooting backwards down the steps, his beady black eyes trained on the King.

 

“Send me not from your sight!” Wormtongue pathetically pleaded, only resulting in exponentially increasing Ginny’s already present disgust directed towards him. Wormtongue’s begging did nothing for him. King Théoden let out a strangled roar and raised his sword, preparing to strike Wormtongue’s cowering form. Out of the corner of her eye, Ginny saw Aragorn rush forward to the King’s side.

 

“No my lord!” he shouted, grabbing Théoden’s wrist to stop him from striking the cowardly mass at their feet. “No my lord, let him go,” he said, his voice strained with the effort of holding the King back. Gently, Aragorn guided Théoden’s hand back down leaving the King’s sword hanging limply at his side. “Enough blood has been spilt on his account.” Aragorn kept his hold on the king’s arm until he had calmed down, enough that they could tell that he wouldn’t attack Wormtongue. With one last look at the King, Aragorn turned towards the cowering thing on the steps, its eyes now filled with anger and resentment. Aragorn extended his hand towards him to help him up, but in thanks, Wormtongue spat on his hand.

 

In that moment, Ginny saw red. _You fucking bastard! Who the hell do you think you are? It’s one thing to manipulate the King of Rohan. It’s one thing to turn to Saruman for power. It’s another to blatantly disrespect Aragorn._ Ginny was enraged, furious with the man. _He doesn’t even deserve to be called a Man._ She lunged forward with a snarl to rip him limb from limb - she didn't even want her wand. She wanted the satisfying crunch of broken cartilage beneath her knuckles when she punched him in the nose - but Legolas held her back.

 

"Legolas you let me go or so help me, I will curse you so hard your _grandchildren_ will have rashes," she growled at the elf. Legolas said nothing but strengthened his grip on her arms. Ginny glared holes into Wormtongue's head and was released with a scowl in her direction before that wretch of a man got to his feet and stormed through the crowd of people at the base of the steps, screaming at them to get out of his way. Ginny's glare followed him out and it was only when she heard Aragorn's voice again that she calmed down.

 

"Hail Théoden King!" he said to the crowd at large. Ginny composed herself and watched as the people all knelt before their King and following Aragorn's example, knelt before Théoden as well. Théoden looked on the gathered crowd with a slight bit of awe surveying them all, like he was looking for someone or something.

 

"Where is Théodred?" he asked, "Where is my son?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Let me know what you thought about it in a comment!


	17. Contemplation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Watching someone grieve for their family has a way of making you think.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everybody, I still, to your intense surprise, I'm sure, do not own Harry Potter or Lord of the Rings. If I did, I would own a lot more shoes.

Théoden’s eyes fell upon Éowyn and silently, he made his way up to the step where she stood, disbelief on his face. Éowyn bowed her head and put a hand on her uncle’s shoulder, gently guiding him inside to break the news about Théodred’s passing. A few guards followed them inside, closing the doors to Meduseld in their wake, leaving the Fellowship outside. Ginny’s face fell and she moved to sit down on the steps away from the others. 

 

Her thoughts strayed to Éowyn, Théodred, and King Théoden and stuck there. She couldn’t imagine what it must be like to lose someone like that. If Théoden was like a father to Éowyn, then he must have raised her, Ginny reasoned. Théodred must have been like a brother to her. Ginny couldn’t imagine losing one of her brothers - not like how they ‘lost’ Percy, he didn’t count - _really_ lose one of her brothers. Just the thought of it brought tears to her eyes.

 

She went to wipe them away, but someone else got there first. Callused hands cupped her face and rough thumbs ran across her cheeks, wiping away her tears before they could fall too far. She looked up to see Aragorn kneeling in front of her, concern written across his features. But not even Aragorn’s comfort could clear her mind. Flashes of horrible images floated across her mind’s eye - the broken bodies of Bill, Charlie, Fred, George, and Ron. Even Percy, his head lolling back and his eyes unfocused flitted past, somewhere in between images of Bill and Charlie, bloodily wounded. Ginny’s mind tortured her with imaginary horrors; Bill, his face slashed beyond belief and bleeding to death; Charlie, burnt to a crisp by one of the dragons he loved so dearly; Fred, crushed beneath fallen stone; George, slain on a battlefield; Ron, struck down by a death eater’s curse. 

 

Ginny didn’t notice she was hyperventilating until she felt Aragorn’s steady hand rubbing circles on her back, his low and calming voice telling her to breathe, that he was there, that she would be alright. She subconsciously leaned into his touch, letting herself calm down and take deep breaths. She looked over at her brothers and saw them talking to each other with grins on their faces. _They’re safe_ , she told herself. _They’re fine, look at them._

 

“Thank you,” she said to Aragorn, turning to look at him so she could thank him properly. Aragorn graced her with a small smile which Ginny returned. They sat like that for a while, enjoying the silence, but eventually that was interrupted by the sound of footsteps and of creaking hinges. Ginny and Aragorn rose to their feet and turned back towards Meduseld to see the doors open and two servants, a girl and a boy, standing there respectfully.

 

“My lords and lady,” the serving boy began, “if you would follow us, we will take you to your guest quarters,” he said with a little bow. The fellowship fell into their accustomed ranks and followed behind the two servants. As they were led through the halls, Ginny couldn’t help but be reminded of Hogwarts. The stone walls and the beautifully woven tapestries gave her a familiar and warm sense of home and she could feel the stress on her shoulders alleviating. They had turned left down one corridor, right down another, and had now the hallway they had been walking through ended, making a “T” with another. The servants stopped there and turned to face the Fellowship. 

 

“My lords,” the serving boy addressed Gandalf, Aragorn, Legolas, Gimli, and the twins, “Please follow me,” he said before leading them to the right. Ginny returned the waves her brothers gave her with a grin and turned to look at the serving girl.

 

“My lady, the women’s quarters are this way,” she said, gesturing for Ginny to follow her to the left. The serving girl silently led Ginny down the corridor, past doors and windows, finally stopping at a door on the right-hand side. The serving girl opened the door for Ginny and let her inside, curtseying when Ginny dismissed her. Ginny didn’t like having to order people around, but that was the custom here for people of different classes. _If that girl is going to be doing things for me the whole time we’re here, I’ll have to do something about that “my lady” business. And the curtseying._

 

Resolving to learn the girl’s name in the morning, Ginny deposited her pack and her weapons onto a table by the wardrobe and meandered her way over to the window. She couldn’t express how glad she was to have a window to the outside in her room. She was used to the open and serene houses of Rivendell where the structures were more window than wood and as a ranger, she had grown accustomed to the breeze on her face and the stars above her head as she slept. She hated being cooped up indoors. Ginny rested her forearms on the windowsill and leaned outside, relishing in the light breeze as it caressed her face. 

 

She let herself enjoy the peaceful moment until her forearms grew uncomfortable and then sought out a bathtub. She had earned the luxury of a long, hot bath. She methodically worked the tangles out of her hair and scrubbed at her skin until it was pink. When she rose out of the tub, the water was a disgusting brown color, but she cleaned it up with a quick vanishing spell. She charmed her hair dry and dressed herself in a clean nightgown that the serving girl must have left for her while she was bathing and tucked herself in for the best night’s sleep she had had since Lothlórien.

 

* * *

 

Ginny woke to a persistent knocking at her door. She groggily rolled out of bed, draped a dressing gown around her shoulders, and shuffled over to the door, rubbing the sleep from her eyes as she did so. Ginny let out a yawn as she reached for the door handle, caring for neither her appearance nor what the person on the other side would think of it. She opened the door to find a serving girl, different from the one she had met last night. The girl was young and though she looked timid and demure Ginny saw a certain fiery impertinence in her eyes.

 

Ginny had a feeling that she would like this girl.

 

The girl made a little curtsey and with a “my lady,” she entered the room and made her way to the dressing table, depositing a bundle of fine black cloth on the surface before the mirror.

 

“I’m to ready you for the funeral ceremonies, my lady,” she said in explanation.

 

“Alright, but if you’re going to be serving me, let’s get one thing straight,” Ginny said, waiting for the girl to nod before continuing. “No more ‘my ladys,’ you don’t need to curtsey, and I would love to be able to call you by name,” she said. The girl looked a little shocked, but pleased nonetheless.

 

“My name is Sifa, my la- my apologies - Ginevra,” she said, starting to curtsey, but stopping halfway down and grinning up at Ginny.

 

“It’s nice to meet you, Sifa,” Ginny said, “Now, shall we get on with this?” she asked, gesturing to herself. Sifa nodded and told Ginny to sit down in front of the dressing table so that she might fix her hair. Sifa's fingers worked quickly and deftly, braiding Ginny's fiery locks in a fashion elaborate enough to be worthy of the dwarves, ultimately pinning it all in place at the nape of her neck. Once Sifa had finished that, she had Ginny stand up and led her to the changing screen that stood next to the table. 

 

Once behind the screen, Ginny dressed herself in the shift that Sifa passed to her. Ginny ran her hands over the soft fabric and shifted her weight from one foot to another to feel the skin of her legs rubbing against each other. It was an odd feeling after running around in trousers for a month or so. Sifa then came behind the screen to help with the corset and dress, a black garment that was hanging limply in Sifa's arms. Sifa set the gown on a small stool and gestured for Ginny to lift her arms so that she might help her into the corset. Ginny groaned a little at that. She absolutely despised corsets and couldn’t see why they should be worn at all. If it wasn’t for the fact that this was a formal event she was dressing for, she would've refused entirely. Behind her back, Sifa tightened the strings and at one point pulled hard enough to elicit a gasp from Ginny as air was squeezed out of her lungs. 

 

_I hate corsets_ , she grumbled inwardly. She managed to persuade Sifa to loosen it a bit though, so that was something. Once that torture was over with, Sifa helped Ginny into the gown, adjusting the skirt so that it hung straight and making sure that the sleeves fit nicely before declaring her ready. Sifa swept up the discarded dressing gown and nightdress, depositing them into a laundry basket that she took with her as she left Ginny in her room. The girl almost curtseyed to Ginny, but stopped herself when she saw the amused but reprimanding look on the redhead’s face. With a little smile, she closed the door behind her, leaving Ginny to her own devices until someone came to fetch her for the ceremony.

 

She didn't have to wait long until she heard a knock at the door. 

 

"Come in," she called. The door creaked as it was opened and Ginny turned from the window where she had been standing to see Fred, dressed just as finely as she was, ready to escort her to the funeral. 

 

* * *

 

After the ceremony, the Fellowship, minus Gandalf and plus Éowyn, found themselves in the throne room of Meduseld, now the warm and grand place it was intended to be. 

 

Ginny sat in between Aragorn and Éowyn with Gimli and the twins across the table. Legolas stood off to the side, leaning against a pillar and the air around them smelled faintly of smoke from both Aragorn's and Gimli's pipes. Everyone sat quietly, apart from the twins who were telling the story of how they left school halfway through their seventh year in an attempt to cheer them all up. 

 

"So we're running from Filch, the caretaker, see, and there are fireworks everywhere -" George said. 

 

"-Umbridge, the toad of a headmistress, is _screeching_ her head off, trying to get rid of them but we fixed it so that no matter what anyone does-" Fred continued.

 

"-they just grow or multiply! So we're running through the halls, lights flashing everywhere, yeah? And we get to the entrance hall-"

 

"-and Umbridge is there and Filch is next to her and they both look like they've got something foul-smelling under their noses-"

 

"-Though that might've just been her burnt hair and his swampy robes-"

 

“-Fair enough, fair enough, and so Umbridge tells Filch to go get his whips and of course, she means for him to lash us for punishment and then expel us from school-”

 

"-but I just looked over at Fred and I said 'I don't think the academic life was ever really for us, eh, Freddie?'-"

 

"-And I said 'I couldn't agree more, Georgie,' and so we summoned our brooms-"

 

"-Umbridge had confiscated them and chained them up in her office-"

 

"-and they came sailing trough the air, dragging the chains along behind them and everything-"

 

"-we mounted our brooms and with a farewell that wouldn't be proper to recount in front of a lady such as yourself, Lady Éowyn," George said, censoring the tale.

 

"We flew over the old toad's head, nearly pegged some sixth year in the eye with the chain dangling from my broom, and flew to freedom!" Fred finished the story with excessive bravado. 

 

Their story earned some laughs from Ginny, Gimli, and Éowyn and even a small smile from Aragorn. Upon seeing that smile grace his lips, Ginny smiled wider. She loved to see him smile, especially considering how rare that sight was. Likewise, Aragorn found himself reveling in the sound of Ginny's laugh - not light and tinkling, but hearty and joyful. He silently wished that he could hear that laugh more often, but he knew in his heart that it would be long before that could happen, if ever. 

 

Gimli started to tell a story about some mischief he had gotten into with his cousins Fili and Kili in the Blue Mountains when he was just a youngling when the doors of Meduseld slammed open and King Théoden and Gandalf rushed in, a boy in the wizard's arms and a distraught little girl half-walking half-running beside him to keep up with the wizard's long strides. 

 

Upon the sight of the children, Ginny and Aragorn went to get up and help, but Éowyn and George got there first, George taking the boy from Gandalf's arms and Éowyn crouching down before the little girl. 

 

"Where is Mama?" Ginny just barely heard the little girl say before she and her brother were whisked away to be taken care of. 

 

* * *

 

"Their village was attacked by wildmen. They stormed the town, killing civilians and burning their buildings. Freida and Éothain's mother sent them here to raise the alarm," George explained to King Théoden. The children now sat at the table with the Fellowship, hungrily eating stew and bread that had been brought from the kitchens. At the sound of her name, Freida looked up at Éowyn with big blue eyes, confused and scared. Éowyn smoothed the girl's hair comfortingly before rising from the bench and coming to stand next to George. 

 

"They had no warning," Éowyn continued to explain, "they were unarmed."

 

"And now the wildmen are working their way across the Westfold, burning as they go," George added.

 

Ginny listened intently, her mind running over and over possible reasons, plans, and threats, her gaze directed at but not focused on a knot in the wood of the table. Her mind wandered though, and her eyes trailed away from the knot, instead focusing on the strong, bare forearms of the ranger seated next to her. Ginny’s eyes traced the tendons in his fingers from his knuckles, up his wrist, and along his arm, then drifting to the strong muscle. _He shouldn’t be allowed to look that good_ , Ginny thought to herself. _What-no. No. Ginny, stop thinking like that,_ she scolded herself. Ginny shook her head slightly to dispel those traitorous thoughts and forced herself to focus on the situation at hand. _Ginny, you don’t have time to stare at Aragorn right now._

 

_I don’t_ stare _at Aragorn,_ she stubbornly told herself. In a matter of seconds, Ginny found her eyes drawn back to him, this time to the attractive stubble that stretched across his strong jawline. _Attractive? No. Ginny, stop. Stop that right now. He is your friend and you can’t think about him like that. You don’t think of him like that. You don’t._ Ginny stubbornly forced her thoughts and her gaze away from Aragorn and turned physically to look at the King as he talked to Gandalf. Théoden sat upon his throne, leaning back as he pinched the bridge of his nose, looking like he was fighting off a headache. 

 

“This is but a taste of the terror Saruman will unleash," Gandalf said from his seat beside the King. He waited a moment for the King to think before continuing. "Ride out and meet him head on," he advised, "draw him away from your women and children." As he spoke, he placed a hand on the arm of Théoden's throne and Ginny was thrown back to the image of a very different man doing the exact same thing - a dark, pale, leech of a man. 

 

“You must fight," Gandalf urged him. 

 

“You have two thousand good men riding north as we speak," Aragorn added. "Éomer is loyal to you. His men will return and fight for their King," he said, confident that his words were true. Ginny agreed. They had seen what Éomer and his men were like. They would do anything for the sake of their King. Théoden rose from his seat and descended the steps leading down from the daïs upon which rested his throne.

 

“They will be three hundred leagues from here by now," the King said, beginning to pace the floor of the throne room, "Éomer cannot help us."He stopped his pacing and turned to confront Gandalf. "I know what it is you want from me, but I will not bring further death to my people. I will not risk open war."

 

“Open war is upon you," Aragorn contradicted him, "whether you would risk it or not." At his words, King Théoden stiffened where he stood and Ginny could feel the tension rising in the room. 

 

“When last I looked," Théoden said testily, "Théoden - not Aragorn - was King of Rohan." 

 

Ginny respected the King, she really did, but she couldn't say that she was at all happy with him right now. Didn't he see? Aragorn wasn't trying to usurp him, just provide counsel! Didn't he see that? But she supposed she could see where he was coming from. He _had_ just come from a position where he was being used as a puppet and now he was just making it clear _who_ the King was and that it was _he_ who made his decisions and no one else. Ginny was brought out of her thoughts by Gandalf's voice. 

 

“Then what is the King’s decision?" he asked. There was a pregnant pause while they all waited for the King to speak and finally, he opened his mouth. 

 

"We make for Helms Deep," he said. "Gather your belongings. We ride in four hours time." With that, the King of Rohan exited the hall with two of his advisors, leaving the fellowship to brood over the turn of events. At some point, Éowyn had left the hall with Freida and Éothain, deciding that they should not hear such conversation, leaving the rest of them free to curse and rage as thy wished.

 

However, the silence was palpable. Ginny could feel the tension in the room as well as anger and annoyance radiating off of Aragorn in waves. Abruptly, shattering the silence, Aragorn got to his feet and strode out of the throne room, out the doors of Meduseld, away from the others. Taking that as a cue, Fred and George left for their quarters to gather their things, Gimli and Gandalf following their example. Legolas went to go outside to follow Aragorn, but Ginny placed a hand on his shoulder to stop him. 

 

"Let him have his peace for a moment," she advised, "he needs to cool down before anybody can talk to him," she spoke from experience. With a little persuasion, she got Legolas to go and let her handle it, leaving her alone in the large hall. Ginny waited a few minutes, wasting time by playing with transfiguration and the fork Gimli had left on the table before returning the fork back to its original state and going outside to talk to her ranger. _My ranger? No, Ginny, stop that._

 

He was seated on the topmost step, one foot on the second step down, the other one stretched out. His elbow rested on his knee as he puffed on his pipe and from the side, Ginny could see the lines on his forehead from his crinkled brow. Ginny walked over next to him, making sure that her steps were loud enough to announce her presence, and sat down beside him. When he didn't acknowledge her presence, she lightly nudged him with her shoulder, promoting him to look over at her. 

 

"What's wrong?" she asked him gently. 

 

"It's nothing, Ginny," he said, stubbornly keeping his gaze on the horizon. Ginny sighed quietly. 

 

"If it was nothing, you wouldn't be out here staring forlornly into the distance," she said, a smile creeping into her voice as she spoke. The corner of Aragorn's mouth quirked upwards a little at her words and he removed his pipe from his mouth, turning to look at her. Ginny found herself unable to tear herself away from his deep grey eyes. At the foot of the steps, a boy dropped what must have been his master's armor, resulting in a loud clanging that startled the pair out of their trance and brought Ginny's attention back to the matter at hand.

 

"What's bothering you?" she asked him, placing a hand over his where it rested on the stone. 

 

"Théoden will not listen to counsel. He is making the wrong decision. At Helms Deep, they'll be sitting ducks for Saruman's forces. They don't stand a chance," he said, his tone bitter and frustrated. Ginny took a hand and started rubbing soothing circles on his back. As she did so, she could feel some of the tension leave his body as he relaxed into her touch.

 

"You're frustrated because he didn't listen to your suggestions," she stated. Aragorn sighed heavily and nodded. "Aragorn, I know that your counsel is valid and sensible, but you have to remember what Théoden just went through. He just spent a fair deal of time as a puppet for Saruman. I would think that he wishes to make his own decisions, independent of anyone else's input - if anything just to show that it is indeed the King who is making them," she said. Aragorn set his pipe down on the flagstone step and ran his fingers through his - clean, Ginny noticed - hair with frustration. 

 

"He's doing what he thinks is best for his people," she went on, continuing to rub his back and taking care to avoid the places she knew were tender from battle wounds though he would never admit it. The two sat in silence long enough for Aragorn to calm down. He was about to stand up and help Ginny to her feet in turn when the doors of Meduseld slammed open and revealed Gandalf, Fred, George, Legolas, and Gimli, the younger men all following Gandalf. With a look at each other, Aragorn and Ginny jumped to their feet and joined the rest of their company, trailing after the wizard's long strides. 

 

“Helm’s Deep!" Gimli grumbled as they walked. "They flee to the mountains when they should stand and fight! Who will defend them if not their King?”

 

“He is only doing what he thinks is best for his people," Aragorn said grudgingly, echoing what Ginny had said to him earlier. “Helms Deep has saved them in the past." By then, they had reached the stables, where Gandalf had been going, and in his rush and frustration, he slammed those doors open too. 

 

“There is no way out of that ravine," Gandalf said to Fred and George who walked on either side of him,"Théoden is walking into a trap. He thinks he is leading them to safety. What he will get is a massacre," he said. As he spoke, he opened the gate to the stall Shadowfax had been given, stepping inside. The entire company was gathered around him now, straining their ears to hear everything he had to say. "Theoden has a strong will but I fear for him. I fear for the survival of Rohan," he said. "He will need you, Aragorn," he said to the ranger specifically, "Rohan will need you. Their defenses _have_ to hold.”

 

“They will hold," Aragorn replied determinedly. Gandalf nodded in response and turned away from the company to to his beloved horse, reaching a hand up to stroke the creature's neck. 

 

“The grey pilgrim. That is what they used to call me," he said before mounting Shadowfax. "Three hundred lives of men I’ve walked this earth and now I have no time." Gandalf shook his head once with an expression of something like exasperation, frustration, and ironic appreciation all at once. "With luck, my search will not be in vain. At first light on the fifth day, at dawn, look to the east," he instructed them. He turned Shadowfax around and sensing what he was about to do, the Fellowship stood back along the sides of the stables, allowing Gandalf plenty of room. With one last nod to the assembled company, he kicked Shadowfax's flanks and the horse charged out of the stables, through the streets, and out of the city. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! If you liked it, let me know in a comment!


	18. Premonition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dreams can be both delightful and frightening and when they turn towards the latter, it's good to have someone to turn to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey folks, if there's anybody reading this, I'm back! Welcome to chapter 18. I still don't own Harry Potter or Lord of the Rings. If I did, I would be legally purchasing my Harry Potter audiobooks because I would have the money to feasibly do so.
> 
> Enjoy!

George strode casually into the armory, really just wasting time. He was packed, his horse was ready, Fred and Ginny were set to go, and he didn’t really have anything to do, so he figured - why not see what everyone else is up to? He let his eyes roam the armory, finally landing on the Lady Éowyn who held a sword in hand and was practicing forms. She elegantly and gracefully slashed at an imaginary foe and advanced on it, her flaxen hair swaying with her movement. 

 

George quietly drew his own blade, ready for when she would turn around. He did not have to wait long. Éowyn swung her blade towards George, letting her body follow the swing so that she turned to face him, her eyes widening a little at the sight of him. She hadn’t heard him approach. She was about to stop her swing when George brought up his own blade to meet hers, the resounding clang ringing throughout the armory. Determined to prove herself, Éowyn held his gaze and expertly unlocked their swords, holding her blade out towards him, ready to attack or defend.

 

George recognized her challenge and he swung carefully at her, prepared for her parry. She did not disappoint him. After a short exchange of blows from both accounts, George waited for her to parry one of his blows before stepping back from the sparring match and sheathing his blade.

 

“You’ve got some skill with a sword, my lady,” he complimented, nodding to her with respect. When he looked up again, it was to see Éowyn’s back to him as she retrieved the scabbard for her sword and sheathed it.

 

“Women of this country learned long ago that those without swords can still die upon them,” she said by way of explanation. “I fear neither death nor pain.” 

 

George had to admire that - how could he not? She was brave, tough, and knew how to stand up for herself. But he had to wonder - if it was not death or pain that she feared, then...

 

“What _do_ you fear, my lady?” he inquired gently, taking care not to put her on the defensive. 

 

“A cage,” she replied resolutely. “To stay behind bars until use and old age accept them,” she said, “and all chance of valor is beyond recall or desire,” she explained heatedly. George could see that this was something that occupied her thoughts more often than she would ever admit - that it was something she worried about and lost sleep over. But he couldn’t be more sure that she would not come to that. Surely she knew that. _No matter what you might think, girls aren’t psychic, Georgie. You have to actually say out loud what you’re thinking,_ said a voice in his head that sounded an awful lot like Ginny.

 

“You are a daughter of kings - a sheildmaiden of Rohan!” George said reassuringly. When she did not respond, he gently placed a hand on her shoulder and turned her around so that she was facing him. “I do not think that will be your fate,” he said earnestly. In an act of what most people here would call boldness - but he would just call flirting - he took Éowyn’s hand and placed a kiss upon her knuckles, keeping his eyes locked on hers the whole time. 

 

“My Lady,” he said in farewell, releasing her hand and giving her a little bow before leaving the armory, one hand swinging by his side, the other resting on the pommel of his sword. 

 

* * *

 

Ginny stood in her temporary quarters, leaning on the windowsill. A cool breeze floated in through the window and brushed past her, blowing her hair away from her face. Her eyes were closed and for a minute, if she ignored the cool stone beneath her forearms, she could imagine that she was back home - back in Rivendell. 

 

_Home?_

 

When had she started calling Rivendell home? 

 

She had lived there off and on for nearly ten years now but for all that time, she had still thought of the Burrow as home. The Burrow was where her family was. The Burrow was where she ate her mother’s home cooked meals and where she listened to her father go on and on about spark plugs and rubber ducks. The Burrow was where she would steal Ron’s Chudley Cannons posters while he was asleep and where Ron would steal them back along with one of her Holyhead Harpies posters the next night in retaliation. The Burrow was where she and the twins would make fun of Percy - before he turned out to be even more of a traitorous git than they thought. The Burrow was where Bill and Charlie would play Quidditch with her in the summers and where the moaning and groaning sounds of the ghoul in the attic would keep her up at night. 

 

But it wasn’t quite _home_ for her anymore. She loved the Burrow, she really did. It had been her home for the first sixteen years of her life. She had missed it so much when she first went to Hogwarts but eventually, the castle became her home as well. If she ever was able to go back, she might still consider them homes. For so long, she had longed to go back. She had been homesick beyond belief, but that had faded. She supposed that she had subconsciously thought of Rivendell as her home for a while now but had never realized it. 

 

It _was_ her home now though. It was where she had been taken in and cared for, where she had learned how to live in this world. Lord Elrond was like a father to her now and Arwen, Elladan, and Elrohir were as much her brothers and sister as the twins were. Rivendell was where Elrond had taught her to speak elvish and where Arwen had taught her how to be a lady and a badass at the same time, if not in those words. It was where Elladan and Elrohir taught her how to fight. She missed it. She missed home. 

 

_But do I really?_

 

If she was honest with herself, she wasn’t sure she really was homesick. She felt at home here. This whole journey had been like her missions on the road with Aragorn, only with a few others along for the ride. She was at home with him.

 

A knock sounded on her chamber door. 

 

“Come in,” she called, not bothering to leave the windowsill, only turning her head to see Sifa standing in the doorway.

 

“My la-” she started, only to be cut off by Ginny’s reprimanding look. “Sorry, Ginny, it is time to go,” she said solemnly. Ginny nodded, leaving her windowsill and beginning to gather up her belongings. She strapped her sword and belt around her waist, pulled on her boots and dagger sheaths, fastened her cloak around her shoulders, and slung her pack onto her back. She followed Sifa out of the room and didn't look back. 

 

* * *

 

Ginny had never before ridden a horse for such a long period of time. She wasn’t used to riding for a whole day with only a short break at midday for lunch. She was not accustomed to this and her arse was loudly complaining about it. She had never been so sore. It wouldn’t be so bad if she didn’t know that they’d be doing this for a few more days. They could go so much faster with this if it wasn’t for all the people on foot. Ahead of her, Gimli rode - all on his own, bless him - beside Lady Éowyn and the twins who had opted to take a break and walk for a while. Ginny herself rode beside Aragorn and on his other side was King Théoden. Up in front of her, the twins and Gimli were all being downright cheerful and while she could join in on their jokes, stories, and playful banter, she was content where she was. 

 

“It’s true, you don’t see many dwarf women,” Ginny heard Gimli say up ahead. “And in fact, they are so alike in voice and appearance that they’re often mistaken for dwarf men,” he continued. Ginny grinned a little at that. She herself had never met a dwarf woman. She had come across a few dwarves over the course of her travels but the only dwarf she had really gotten to know was Gimli. Ginny didn’t hear what George whispered to Éowyn, but she saw him stroking his chin. Éowyn quietly shushed George but she was smiling all the same.

 

“And this in turn has given rise to the belief that there _are_ no dwarf women!” Gimli continued, “and that dwarves just - spring out of holes in the ground!” he said, making Éowyn and the twins laugh. “Which is, of course, ridiculous,” he said before his horse started forward, throwing the dwarf off its back. 

 

“He’s certainly getting better at riding,” Ginny said to Aragorn beside her, getting a grin and a chuckle out of him which Ginny returned. Gimli was on the ground ahead of them, spluttering about how he meant to do that and it was done deliberately, but that only made Ginny laugh harder at him. 

 

“I haven’t seen my niece smile in a long time,” Théoden remarked, coming up beside Ginny. She cocked her head to the side questioningly, wordlessly asking him to elaborate. 

 

“She was a girl when they brought her father back dead, cut down by orcs,” he said. “She watched her mother succumb to grief and she was left alone,” he went on, regret and anger in his voice. “To tend her king in growing fear, doomed to wait upon an old man who should’ve loved her as a father,” he finished, the anger more clear in his tone, before riding on ahead, leaving Ginny and Aragorn behind him, his voice still ringing in their ears.

 

* * *

 

Ginny found herself seated beside Aragorn once they made camp for the night. Neither said anything, content to just sit and work beside one another. Aragorn was cleaning and sharpening his blades while Ginny tended to her bow. They sat quietly in their own little solitary island while people bustled all around them. Women were making food and tending to children and men were rubbing down the horses. Children chased each other around the camp, playing games and laughing, but they didn’t approach the ranger and the red-headed woman who sat in a contented silence. That was, until Éowyn approached them with a stew pot, bowls, and spoons in hand. 

 

“I made some stew,” she said by way of explanation, “it’s not much, but it’s hot,” she said, handing a bowl to Aragorn and offering one to Ginny.

 

“Oh, thank you, Éowyn, but I’m not all that hungry,” she said, remembering what she had overheard from the serving girls about Lady Éowyn’s cooking. Aragorn looked about to hand his bowl back with his regrets as well, taking a cue from Ginny’s behavior, but Ginny decided that she’d rather see this play out. “Now Aragorn on the other hand,” she said to Éowyn, “was just telling me how he hadn’t eaten all day.” Ginny clapped a hand on Aragorn’s shoulder, fighting the grin that threatened to stretch her lips upon the sight of the panic in his eyes. Ginny turned back to Éowyn. “I’m sure he’d love some,” she finished. With a small smile that only Ginny thought looked more like a grimace, Aragorn nodded and allowed Éowyn to fill his bowl. He thanked her and waited for her to leave, but after a few seconds with no sign of her doing so, he tentatively tasted a bite.

 

“It’s good,” he said. Ginny had to bite her lip to keep from laughing - he was lying through his teeth! Éowyn smiled and thanked Aragorn and turned to leave. Ginny let out a giggle and Aragorn went to dump the stew in the grass as soon as Éowyn’s back was turned but she quickly returned to face them. Ginny schooled her features and out of the corner of her eye, saw Aragorn wince from the heat of the stew on his fingers from where it spilled as he hastily made it look as if he would never intend to dump it. Éowyn nodded at them, satisfied, and then scurried off - probably to find Ginny’s brothers. 

 

Once Éowyn was out of earshot, Ginny burst into laughter. Beside her, Aragorn scowled but he couldn’t help the smile that grew on his face at the sound of her laugh. After he got over the initial insult of it all, he found himself laughing with her, his lower tones mingling nicely with her higher ones. She glanced over at his face and saw something in his eyes that she couldn’t identify. There was laughter and happiness there, she could tell, but there was something else. Ginny pushed it aside in favor of focusing on his smile and his laugh. The sound made Ginny’s grin even wider. God, she loved that laugh.

 

_No, Ginny stop that. He’s your friend and that’s it,_ she stubbornly told herself.

 

_That’s it, isn’t it?_

 

* * *

 

Ginny and Aragorn were walking together, hand in hand, and she reveled in the feel of her palm in his. His hand was rough, calluses were on his palm and fingers from sword play, but simultaneously, his skin against hers was warm and comforting. Her equally callused but smaller hand matched up with his, the heel of her hand nestling inside the cavity of his palm and their fingers comfortably threaded together. 

 

They stopped walking when they came to a cliff that overlooked a river valley. They stood together on the grassy bouldered plain, silently observing the view before them. Nothing needed to be said. They were content. With a little tug and a smile, Ginny led Aragorn to the edge of the overhang and there they sat, their legs dangling over the edge of the sheer drop down past ragged stone to rocky waters. 

 

Ginny leaned against Aragorn and he extracted his arm from between them and placed it around her waist. His touch sent shocks of warmth through her body and she absolutely loved it. Ginny closed her eyes in contentment and further nestled herself into Aragorn’s side. He placed a kiss to her temple and brushed a loose hair out of her face, tucking it behind her ear. 

 

It was then that they heard a low growl behind them. Their senses and instincts came to light as they whirled around, jumping to their feet. Their swords appeared in hand and they fought the two wargs, one with an orc rider to match. Ginny pushed her riderless foe back away from the edge of the cliff, having an easier time than Aragorn, considering that she only had one warg to deal with and not a rider to add to the mix. With a swipe of her sword to the neck, Ginny killed her warg and she turned to assist Aragorn but when she tried to take a step towards him, her feet refused to budge. She pulled and pushed and wiggled, but her boots were stuck to the ground and her feet inside her boots. She watched, terrified with worry, as Aragorn swung onto the back of the warg and stabbed its rider dead but when he tried to leap off of the now rampaging warg’s back, his wrist got stuck. He couldn’t get off and the warg was charging towards the cliff.

 

“Aragorn!” Ginny shouted for him, trying with all her might to just get her blasted feet to _move!_

 

Aragorn struggled with his wrist and Ginny fought to reach him but neither the straps on him nor the invisible bonds on Ginny would budge. Ginny watched in horror as the warg tumbled off the cliff, pulling Aragorn down with it.

 

“ _ARAGORN!”_ she screamed. She wrenched at her feet with all her might and stumbled to the ground, her bonds finally cut. “ _Aragorn!_ ” she cried out again. She felt tears streaming down her face as she clambered to her feet, rushing to the edge of the cliff and falling to her knees. She screamed his name over and over again until her voice was hoarse - hoping, _praying_ , that it would bring him back to her.

 

Ginny woke with a start, sitting upright, her breathing ragged and rushed. She could feel the wetness in her eyes as she struggled to get a full breath, her whole body shaking. She felt a hand on her shoulder and she jumped at the contact. She turned to see who it was and saw Aragorn’s rough and kind face, his eyes full of concern and that certain something else that she still couldn’t identify. 

 

Without so much as an explanation, she wove her arms around his middle, paying no mind, for once, to the tears she knew were falling from her eyes. She needed to _feel_ him, _see_ him, she needed to know that he was _there_ and _alive_. 

 

Aragorn hooked an arm under her knees and lifted her legs just enough to seat her comfortably on his lap. He returned her embrace softly and protectively, doing what he could to bring her comfort, to let her know without so many words that he was there for her and always would be. Ginny’s body shook with her shallow breaths as she tried and failed to calm her nerves. She vaguely registered Aragorn rocking her slowly in his arms and murmuring comforting noises in her ear. Eventually her breathing evened out and her brain came down from its adrenaline high.

 

“That was the worst dream I have ever had,” she whispered. Ginny unwound her arms from their uncomfortable position behind Aragorn’s back and pressed up against a boulder and instead curled in on herself, her head resting on Aragorn’s chest and her hands fisted in his shirt.

 

“Do you wish to talk about it?” he asked her softly. Ginny shook her head. She would never speak a word of it to anyone. It was a dream. Nothing more. If she talked about it, if she admitted what she had seen, that would only make it feel more real and she could never let that dream come true. Never. She couldn’t let that happen. But right now, she needed Aragorn to hold her. She needed to hear his heartbeat, feel his warmth, hear his reassuring words. She curled in tighter on herself, bring her knees up to her chest. Aragorn shifted his hold on her to make them both more comfortable and then placed a kiss on her temple.

 

“Sleep,” he said, “I’m right here.” Ginny nodded and closed her eyes, letting Aragorn’s steady and strong heartbeat lull her back to sleep.

 

* * *

 

“Oi, Freddie,” George whispered, nudging his brother’s shoulder to wake him up.

 

“Shut up, you arse, lemme sleep,” came Fred’s reply, muffled by his makeshift pillow of balled up blankets.

 

“Nah, nah, mate, get up, you wanna see this,” George insisted, a mischievous grin on his face. With a groan and a grumble, Fred rolled over onto his back and pushed himself up on his elbows. He glared at his twin and gave him a look that said _what the fuck was so important that I had to get up?_ In reply, George pointed over to the other side of the camp where Aragorn was leaning against a boulder, still asleep, with Ginny nestled in his arms.

 

Fred raised his eyebrows and a huge grin stretched across his face. 

 

“What I wouldn’t give for a camera right now,” he said, grinning at his brother. George mirrored Fred’s grin and nodded in agreement.

 

“How long do you think it’ll take them to finally fess up and get together?” George asked his twin.

 

“Oh, at the rate they’ve been going? Another month, at least,” Fred bet.

 

“I dunno, Freddie, have you seen the way they stare at each other when they think nobody’s looking? I’d say two weeks,” George contradicted him.

 

“Three weeks, I would say, lads,” Gimli said from behind them, startling the twins. They whipped around to see the dwarf standing behind them, his eyes also on the sleeping pair. “And it’ll be the lass who first does something about it, mark my words,” Gimli added. With a look at each other and a silent conversation that Gimli didn’t understand, the twins nodded at each other and then turned back to the dwarf, hands extended for him to shake. 

 

“Losers cut off a lock of Legolas’s hair,” they said in impressive unison. Gimli grinned back at them good-naturedly and shook each of their hands in turn, sealing the bet.

 

“Aye, I’ll take that wager.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! If you liked it, let me know in a comment!


	19. Tribulations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What are the terrors of traveling long distances with a massive caravan? One, sore feet and aching asses - nothing that can be done about that, it's unavoidable. Two, nightmares and difficulty sleeping, which Ginny has been unfortunate enough to deal with already. As for the Wargs (more like feral dogs of unusual size), I don't think they exist.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back to another chapter! 
> 
> I still don't own Harry Potter or Lord of the Rings. If I did, I would own many more pairs of high heels. 
> 
> Enjoy!

The morning, and the one that followed after, was much of the same. They walked and rode, dismounting when their rear ends got sore and getting back in the saddle when the soreness drifted down to their feet. The company and the people of Rohan talked and laughed, the children ran and whined when they got tired and had to be reminded again and again that no, they were not there yet. Their third day of traveling brought them to a rocky outcropping that ended sharply on one side, dropping vertically to a raging river. 

 

“But I don’t understand, isn’t that dangerous?” Éowyn asked of Ginny and the twins.

 

“Oh yeah, Quidditch can be brutal, but it’s worth it,” George answered.

 

“The feeling of the wind rushing through your hair as you fly is _incredible_ ,” Ginny chimed in. 

 

“Of course, you’ve got to watch out for bludgers and for other players, but it really is amazing,” Fred said.

 

“Unless there are fucking _dementors_ on the pitch,” Ginny grumbled under her breath. She may not have been on the team in her second year, but she was still bitter about Hufflepuff’s win that day. It was beyond unfair in her opinion. Fred, who heard her grumblings, burst out laughing, patting her on the back in a slightly patronizing way that Ginny would’ve taken offense to had it been anyone but her brother. 

 

Éowyn opened her mouth to ask them what was so funny but just as she was about to ask, two armored riders rushed past them, up ahead to where Legolas stood atop a small hill, scouting out the terrain ahead. The horses’ hooves pounded the earth as they ran, cutting off any words that might have been spoken. 

 

They continued their discussion about Quidditch until a growling, snarling noise met their ears from up ahead. Ginny’s head snapped up to see what was happening but the riders had gone over the crest of the hill, beyond their sight. 

 

A whinny, a shout, and the clanging of metal echoed through the air and more growls, more snarling came with it. Legolas disappeared over the crest of the hill and out of the corner of her eye, Ginny saw Aragorn running ahead to see what was going on. She put a hand on her horse - Leobuhr, a brown mare she had been lent from the royal stables - to steady her, and felt her body subconsciously tensing, ready to spring up into the saddle any second. 

 

Up ahead, Aragorn stopped at the crest of the hill and Ginny heard Legolas’s voice shout something, but she could not discern what it was. He was too far away, there was too much noise coming from the assembled people. Ginny watched Aragorn take a few steps backwards before turning around and flat-out running back down the hill.

 

“What is it?” Théoden called out to him, “What do you see?”

 

“Wargs!” Aragorn shouted back, projecting his voice for all to hear, “We’re under attack!”

 

His words set off a panic behind the warriors at the head of the column. A distressed cry of “Wargs!” echoed from the front to the back of the column until everyone knew just how much peril they were in. Mothers clutched their children close, those children cried out in fear, and people shouting and shrieking for family members only added to the din.

 

Ginny swung up onto her horse and Fred and George rushed to do the same. Two soldiers helped Gimli up onto his and Legolas’s horse, and as Ginny rode to the head of the column, she fell into step beside Aragorn who gave her a reassuring nod. 

 

“All fighters to the head of the column!” Théoden shouted to them all, before riding back to Éowyn, giving her orders to lead the people to safety which she reluctantly followed. Once she got the citizens of Edoras far back enough to be safe from any attack, Théoden turned back to his fighters, leading his horse to the front to lead them.

 

In the mass of fighters, Ginny turned to look at Aragorn.

 

“You’re not going to try and stop me from fighting like you did in Moria?” she asked him, a playful grin on her face. Aragorn shook his head, suppressing a grin of his own.

 

“Would it do any good?” he asked her, though he knew the answer already.

 

“Absolutely not,” she said resolutely, her little grin still gracing her lips.

 

“Follow me!” they heard Théoden order from up ahead, and they were off.

 

They passed the crest of the hill and saw Legolas shooting the wargs down with his usual precision. With a cry, they charged into battle. Ginny slashed and stabbed at wargs and orcs on all sides, until one particularly determined one decided to go after her. She cut down the rider but the warg persisted in going after her. She urged Leobuhr to ride faster, getting the warg to chase them, until she stopped abruptly. The warg, without Léobuhr’s dexterity and agility, charged right past her and Léobuhr and as it passed, Ginny slashed it across the throat. 

 

Her blow nearly beheaded it, leaving only a centimeter of skin holding its head in place. _Nearly headless warg. Hmm,_ she thought to herself. _Okay, focus._ The sounds of a dying battle came to her ears, and she was on the outskirts of it, away from the combat. The last of the Orcs and Wargs retreated, with archers and, Ginny noted, the twins chasing after them. Ginny scanned the battlefield, and saw Legolas helping Gimli up from underneath a mound of carcasses that had piled up on top of him. Aragorn was nowhere to be seen.

 

“Aragorn?” she shouted. There was no answer. 

 

“Aragorn?” she tried again, still no reply. She dismounted Léobuhr to better search the battlefield. 

 

“Aragorn?” she heard Legolas call out. Next Gimli tried, with the same result. _No- no! Where is he?_ Ginny started to panic. _He has to be okay. He’s okay, Gin, you just have to find him. He’s going to be okay._ Unbidden, moments from her dream flashed before her eyes. _No. He isn’t dead. He can’t be._

 

“Aragorn!” Ginny’s cry was strangled with worry. “Aragorn!” She tried again, though she was distracted when she heard malicious laughter gurgling from a dying Orc. Gimli grabbed it viciously by the collar. Legolas and Ginny came up on either side of the dwarf.

 

“Tell us what happened, and I shall ease your passing,” Gimli snarled.

 

“He’s gone,” the Orc laughed. “Took a little tumble off the cliff,” it coughed through its laughter.

 

And the dream was back. _No. No! It can’t have happened, it just can’t! He didn’t fall. He’s here somewhere. He has to be! He didn’t fall, that can’t be the truth!_

 

“ _You lie!_ ” she cried with audible anger, frustration, and denial. The Orc gave one last laugh before going still. Ginny drew a dagger from her belt and stabbed the Orc in the chest with a cry. She wasn’t sure why did that. The thing was already dead. It didn’t make her feel any better. She watched as Legolas pried something from the Orc’s hand. The small silver and green object glinted in the sunlight. Ginny’s eyes widened in recognition. It was his brooch. _“Not idly do the leaves of Lórien fall,”_ his voice echoed in her mind. 

 

Legolas stood, walking to the edge of the cliff and staring into the waters. Ginny followed. She knelt down and stared into the water below, and started to lower herself down the rock face to climb down to the river, barely even realizing what she was doing, just knowing that she _had_ to save him. _He only just fell! We can find him! He can’t be dead!_

 

“Ginny, no!” she heard Fred call to her. She ignored him. She was now sitting on the edge of the cliff, her legs dangling off the edge, ready to drop. She felt a hand grabbing hold of her wrist, holding her back.

 

“Let me go!” she said, turning to see that it was George who was restraining her. “I can find him!” she persisted. George’s eyes were sorrowful.

 

“Gin, you can’t,” he said sadly.

 

“Yes, I can!” she shouted. She was getting hysterical. She shot a stinging curse at George’s hand, but he didn’t release her. “Let me go!” she yelled at him, tears were welling up in her eyes.

 

“Gin, I’m really, really sorry about this,” George said, pulling out his wand discreetly. “ _Stupefy_ ,” he cast, charming Ginny into unconsciousness. 

 

* * *

 

Ginny woke up to find herself slouched in front of someone, the rocking steps of a horse beneath her. She didn’t feel groggy or hazy, like she’d naturally fallen unconscious, but rather like she’d just woken up from a nap. She’d been stunned and ennervated. She twisted around to see who she rode with and saw George there, a concerned gaze directed towards her.

 

“How’re you feeling, Gin?” he asked her innocently. She narrowed her eyes at him.

 

“Awful,” was her biting reply. They had taken her from Aragorn. They stopped her from finding him.

 

“Can we stop a bit?” she asked George, a plan worming its way into her head. George raised an eyebrow at her, making his suspicion _very_ clear.

 

“Why?”

 

“Because I need to go to the loo, you _git_ ,” Ginny replied, the lie rolling easily off her tongue, masked by the biting jibe at her brother. As soon as she got an answering nod from George, she turned away from him, still furious. Once they came across a larger outcropping of boulders, George veered off course from the others, letting Ginny dismount and duck behind the rock, supposedly to do her business.

 

Once Ginny was behind the rock and out of George’s sight, she let her mask of simple anger fall to reveal the grief, denial, and misery that was driving her absolutely _mad_. She angrily forced herself not to cry and let herself be filled with that determination - determination to find Aragorn. And not just find him, but find him _alive_. Ginny checked herself for all her belongings, making sure that she had her sword, bow, quiver, and daggers, and called out to her brother.

 

“Hey George?” 

 

“What?” he called back to her.

 

“You’re wrong,” Ginny said, leaving no room for argument.

 

“Wrong - what? What d’you mean, wrong?” he asked. Ginny could practically see his furrowed eyebrows and otherwise puzzled expression.

 

“He’s alive, George. He has to be,” she said. “And I’m going to find him.” 

 

“Wait - Ginny, don’t-” George started to say, but Ginny didn’t hear how that question ended. She turned on her heel and with a resounding crack, disapparated. 

 

George sprinted around the boulder when he heard the noise only to find his sister gone. He rushed back to his horse, mounted it, and galloped back up to the others, slowing down and falling into pace with Fred, Legolas, and Gimli. 

 

“Where’s Gin?” Fred asked concernedly. George took a deep breath before answering.

 

“We taught her too well, Freddie,” he said ruefully.

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“She’s gone,” George said. “Got me to stop for her to go to the loo and she disapparated.”

 

“But, where did she go?” Legolas asked.

 

“Could be anywhere,” George answered. He paused in his speech, looking down at his hands on the reins and taking in a deep breath to calm his angry guilt before looking back up at his brother. “She said she was going to go find Aragorn.” 

 

Fred had to bite his lip to stop himself from yelling out in frustration. He took a deep breath to calm his nerves before speaking.

 

“You’re right,” Fred agreed. “We _did_ teach her too well.”

 

There was no way they could turn back now. As much as the twins wanted to go after her, they had no means to do so. They knew she had gone to find Aragorn, but what they didn’t know was where she would go to do that. Ginny could take care of herself. Fred and George knew they shouldn’t have to worry about her being okay, but they couldn’t help it. They couldn’t help but worry about what might happen to her while she was alone and grieving. And it didn’t help when they reached Helms Deep and Eowyn asked after Aragorn and Ginny. 

 

The pain and worry was still so raw - both Fred and George found that they couldn’t speak a word, couldn’t force the answers out of their mouths. When Gimli answered for them - “He fell. And she followed him,” he had said - Eowyn’s whole bearing fell. George took her into his arms and let her process what had happened but there was no time for grief. 

 

There was work to be done. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! If you liked it, let me know what you liked in a comment!


	20. Revelations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the process of saving her best friend's life, Ginny realized something that, in hindsight, made her marvel at her own stupidity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I still, to what I'm sure is your immense surprise, do not own Harry Potter or Lord of the Rings. If I did, I wouldn't need scholarships or student loans. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Ginny took a deep breath upon feeling ground beneath her feet again. She checked herself over for any splinching accidents and upon finding none, turned her eyes to her surroundings. She’d done it. She was at the cliff. Carefully, Ginny navigated her way around the corpses of men and orcs until she was at the edge. Her mind went back to what couldn’t have been more than a few hours ago.

 

_She knelt down and stared into the water below, and started to lower herself down the rock face to climb down to the river, barely even realizing what she was doing, just knowing that she had to save him._ He only just fell! We can find him! He can’t be dead!

 

_“Ginny, no!” she heard Fred call to her. She ignored him. She was now sitting on the edge of the cliff, her legs dangling off the edge, ready to drop. She felt a hand grabbing hold of her wrist, holding her back._

 

_“Let me go!” she said, turning to see that it was George who was restraining her. “I can find him!” she persisted. George’s eyes were sorrowful._

 

_“Gin, you can’t,” he said sadly._

 

_“Yes, I can!” she shouted. She was getting hysterical. She shot a stinging curse at George’s hand, but he didn’t release her. “Let me go!” she yelled at him, tears were welling up in her eyes._

 

_“Gin, I’m really, really sorry about this,” George said, pulling out his wand discreetly. “Stupefy,” he cast, charming Ginny into unconsciousness._

 

Ginny still had that determination to find him. She couldn’t just let him die like that, she couldn’t just _accept_ that he was gone. Even if he _was_ dead - _No, Ginny stop. He’s okay. He has to be._ For the first time in the decade she’d known him, he was in desperate need of help and she was going to do something about it, damn it.

 

She cautiously made her way to the edge of the cliff and crouched down at the edge. Her eyes scanned the cliff face for a way down, but she didn’t have much luck. It was far too steep to climb down and there was no bank she could safely apparate to. She didn’t want to, but it looked to her like she’d have to follow the river. 

 

_Assuming he’s alive,_ that voice in Ginny’s head said to her. _No,_ she scolded herself, _don’t think like that. He’s alive._ Ginny rose to her feet and scanned the edges of the river valley. She spotted a relatively clear spot a fair way down and proceeded to apparate to the point. she reappeared with a cracking noise and once again surveyed the river, the bank, and the nearly vertical rocky surface separating her from the water.

 

Once again, she had no way down. She repeated her pattern of search, apparate, and search again until she reached a point where the riverbank began to make an appearance. She focused on the bank and turned on the spot, leaving the upper ground and arriving on the river bank with two loud cracks. She held her wand flat in the palm of her hand and used the ‘Point Me’ spell again, her wand directing her downriver once more. Ginny set off down the riverbank, her eyes flicking back an forth between the water and the land she walked on. _He’s downriver, that much is sure. But all his armor and weapons would’ve weighed him down, wouldn’t they?_ Her mind’s eye conjured up the image of Aragorn’s lifeless body at the bottom of the river.

 

Panic was quickly consuming Ginny’s heart. _Surely he would’ve sunk! There’s no way he’d float with all that extra weight!_ She had to stop walking and found herself leaning against the rock face. _Shit. Shit, no._ Her breathing was getting short - she couldn’t get enough air in her lungs. _What if he-_ She felt something tighten around her heart and yet it raced, beating furiously against the restraints her panic had tied around it. She felt each beat as it coursed through her body, rapidly rushing through her veins and thudding so hard in her chest that she thought it would burst. 

 

She tried to take deep breaths, to think rationally, but it was just _so_ hard. She focused on her breathing; in and out, in and out, deep breaths to calm her frantic heart. _Think, Gin, think. Calm down, deep breaths. Be rational about this. He wouldn’t give up on you, so there’s no way in hell that you’re going to give up on him._

 

She could see his smile in her mind’s eye, looking down at her with pride and care and that other little _something_ that she lately couldn’t identify. She felt the sensation of his arms encircling her, calming her when she’d had a bad dream. She could feel his lips kissing her temple, smell the leathery scent of him. She heard his laugh; deep, rumbling, and warm. She felt her heart slow back down to normal and her breathing even out. She needed him. She needed to look into his eyes again, for him to hold her again, to hear him laugh.

 

She would see him again if it was the last thing she did. She was going to look into his eyes and hold him until he begged her to let go with laughter on his lips. She was sure of it. She would _make_ sure of it.

 

She determinedly rose to her feet and rounded a corner to see the riverbank get narrower, less than a foot across in some areas. She scanned the riverbank for a wider patch and found one about the length of a quidditch pitch down from where she was. She concentrated on the spot and with a crack, apparated to the stable bank. _We’re gonna find him,_ she told herself. 

 

Ginny continued downriver until she rounded a bend. The bank had finally gotten wide and she was glad to be rid of that particular problem. Her eyes searched the sand for a sign of him and far down the bank, she spotted something - something black and brown against the white sand. Ginny’s eyes widened. Hands shaking, she pulled her wand from her holster, her strides increasing in length and frequency as she placed it flat in her palm.

 

“Point me, Aragorn,” she said through ragged breaths. She felt for the tip and found it to be pointing directly at the brown and black something on the bank. Ginny’s legs acted of their own accord and her brain and heart completely agreed with their decision to sprint towards him. _Oh dear Merlin,_ she prayed, _let him be alright._

 

She skidded to a stop, spraying sand and water everywhere, and dropped beside him, her wand falling out of her grip. He was soaking wet but lying face up, giving Ginny a faint flicker of hope. She took one trembling hand and placed two fingers on his neck, feeling desperately for a pulse. Emotions raged through her; relief, panic, happiness, desperation, and worry. 

 

She couldn’t feel a pulse. 

 

The panic and desperation dominated her brain and she felt those bonds on her heart tightening up all over again.

 

“No,” she whispered. “No!” a little louder. “ _NO!_ ” she cried out, her breathing getting shallow and quick. She couldn’t breathe, she couldn’t _function_. She slumped over on top of Aragorn's prone form, her head on his chest and her hand slipping down from his neck, coming to a stop over his heart. 

 

She could feel her eyes getting wet and there was no stopping it now. Tears fell freely from her eyes, mingling with the river water that soaked Aragorn’s leather hauberk. Sobs wracked her body and she tried to take deep breaths, tried to calm her shaking cries, but it was impossible. _He’s gone. He’s gone. You were too late. He’s gone._ The mantra echoed through her head, letting nothing else make its presence known. She was overwhelmed. 

 

Ginny had thought she knew what “heartbreak” felt like when Michael Corner dumped her in fourth year. Ginny thought she learned better when Harry ended their relationship when she was sixteen. Thinking back, she knew she was a fool.

 

_Now_ Ginny knew what heartbreak felt like. Her heart literally _hurt_. She could feel an ache seating itself deep in her chest and she knew it was because of Aragorn’s still body beneath her. She felt so damn _cold_. It was like the cold that dementors brought with them wherever they went - she couldn’t imagine ever being happy again. How could she be? He was gone. She had lost him for good and she could physically _feel_ that loss in her heart. She couldn’t handle it. He was gone, she had lost him, she was too late. Her heart felt frozen beneath her breast, and the cold was spreading steadily through her veins, her despair chilling her to the bone. 

 

But then she felt it. 

 

A single beat.

 

Ginny froze. _No, I must have imagined it_ , she tried to tell herself, trying to stop herself from getting her hopes up, but she couldn’t help it. She felt warmth blossom in her heart - radiating through her body and filling her with hope. She returned her trembling hand to the pulse point in his neck, feeling for another beat. She had to make sure she hadn’t imagined it. She didn’t think she could bear it if she had.

 

There it was, a second beat; but it was faint. She grabbed her wand from where it had fallen and mentally prepared herself for the worst. _Don’t get your hopes up,_ she cautioned herself. _But I suppose a little hope couldn’t hurt_ , she thought as she took his hand in her free one and squeezed it, _willing_ him survive.

 

“ _Rennervate_.”

 

Aragorn tried to take in a breath, but instead of a gasp, Ginny heard spluttering. Her eyes widened with panic. “ _Anapneo!_ ” she cried hastily. Water shot out of Aragorn’s mouth, spraying Ginny in the face, but she didn’t care. He was breathing again. He took in deep breaths, hungrily filling his lungs with air. 

 

She watched the steady rise and fall of his chest and slowly, his eyes opened. He went to bring his hand up to his head but Ginny still had it in a tight grip. His eyes widened and he sat up sharply, his eyes darting about a little until they found Ginny’s face.

 

“Ginny?” Aragorn breathed, his voice full of disbelief and suspicion.

 

“Yeah, it’s me,” she said. He returned her smile and she could feel her own grin growing until it split her face from ear to ear. 

 

Before she realized what she was doing, she’d flung her arms around him, burying her head in the crook of his neck. Ginny felt him embrace her protectively and bury his face in her hair. She couldn’t stop the tears of relief and happiness that streamed from her eyes.

 

“Ginny,” he breathed. She nodded. “You found me,” he said, holding her tighter, one hand resting on her lower back, the other on her shoulder blades. Warmth radiated from him and Ginny felt that warmth fill her up, straight through her skin, winding its way through her veins and filling her heart. Ginny hugged him tighter and she felt his head come rest on top of hers, his entire body encircling her and making her feel _safe_ and _whole_ again. 

 

“I can’t even say how happy I am that you’re okay,” she said. And it was true. It was like an immense weight had been lifted off her chest - like she’d just taken a shot of Felix Felicis. She was practically drunk with happiness and love. 

 

_Love?_ she asked herself. 

 

She loosened her hug and drew away from Aragorn’s safe embrace just enough to look at his face. There she saw what might have been the most beautiful thing she had ever seen: a smile. Not just any smile, but an ear-splitting, radiant, genuine smile. God, she loved that smile. 

 

_Not just the smile,_ she thought.  ** _Him_** _. I love him. Holy fucking shit, I_ ** _love_** _him,_ she realized. 

 

Ginny beamed back at him through her epiphany and her tears and hugged him again, inhaling his scent that the river couldn’t wash away - leather, earth, and pipe smoke. 

 

Aragorn pressed a kiss to her temple and gently released his hold on her, prompting Ginny to do the same. They slowly ended their embrace but kept each other at arms length, allowing Ginny pass a critical eye over Aragorn and his condition.

 

“You look like death warmed over,” she said bluntly, making Aragorn chuckle and then hiss sharply, curling in on himself placing a hand on his ribs. Ginny felt some of his weight fall to her and she held him upright until he recovered from the pain. “Broken or bruised?” she asked him simply.

 

“Only bruised, I think,” he answered.

 

“Take some rest. I can do a little bit for your bruising and other wounds, but I don’t think I should apparate with you just yet. That will have to wait awhile,” she explained. After a few protests that Ginny shot down, Aragorn agreed. He brought a hand up to her face and gently rubbed his rough thumb along her cheekbone. 

 

“Thank you,” he said with overwhelming sincerity, “for finding me.”

 

“Did you ever doubt I would?” she asked him with a teasing grin, trying to lighten the mood, though her question was sincere. He chuckled a bit before shaking his head.

 

“No. Although the water in my lungs did give me pause,” he quipped back, making her smile.

 

* * *

 

After he first fell asleep, Ginny decided to send a message to the twins, to confirm that she and Aragorn were okay and say that she was sorry for running off like that. Bringing that moment of euphoria from not so long ago to the forefront of her mind, she raised her wand.

 

“ _Expecto Patronum._ ”

 

A silvery white horse leapt from the tip of her wand and trotted to her side, nuzzling her neck. Her - Ginny had long since decided that her patronus was a mare - nose and her presence were warm and comforting. 

 

“Pass this message to Fred and George for me?” she requested. The mare tossed her mane in an affirmative response, making Ginny smile.

 

“Stop worrying, you prats,” she began, “I’m fine, Aragorn’s fine, we’re all fine. Sorry for bolting on you like that, but _clearly_ I was right,” she said. She deliberated for a second before adding “Told you so,” with not a little bit of cheek. 

 

“Aragorn’s okay, but he’s not well enough for apparition. I’m letting him rest awhile and then we’ll begin traveling to Helms Deep on foot. See you two soon,” she said. With a nod to her patronus, the mare left with her message, galloping to the fortress of Rohan. 

 

Ginny watched the mare go until she was out of sight and then the witch took a seat next to Aragorn on the riverbank, watching the water gurgle and roll, the movement almost hypnotizing. She kept watch over Aragorn as he slept off some of his fatigue, but she still wasn’t sure she could risk apparating with him yet. She did what she could, that being a few episkey charms, for his bruised ribs, but it didn’t make much of a difference except for his comfort. 

 

He didn’t have any major injuries, but the both of them were exhausted and weary, making for less than ideal apparition conditions. She wasn’t sure she could apparate by _herself_ safely without splinching off a fingernail or perhaps a toe. She really had no idea how she had managed it when she was searching for him in the first place. No, she would wake him soon and they could at least get a good start on foot. _He can rest awhile longer though,_ she thought. 

 

She had been watching a school of small fish in the shallow water when she heard a rhythmic clopping noise approaching from down the riverbank. Her head snapped sharply towards the noise and she rose a crouch, drawing her wand. (It really was a testament to Aragorn's tiredness that he didn't wake at the noise. He was a remarkably light sleeper.) Ginny's eyes scanned the riverbank for the source of the noise and shortly, a horse emerged from behind a rocky outcropping. Ginny relaxed her defensive stance and as the horse approached, she recognized the white star on his nose and the white socks just above his hooves. 

 

“Brego,” she greeted Aragorn’s horse, reaching out a tentative hand to gently stroke his nose. The horse nudged her hand away from his head and instead walked over to where Aragorn was sleeping. Brego gently nudged the man with his nose, rolling him over and waking him up in the process. 

 

“Brego?” Aragorn asked confusedly, blinking a little at the light.

 

“Seems like the Valar are with us today,” Ginny said. “Come on, we need to get to Helm’s Deep. Can you ride?” she asked him. He opened his mouth to answer her but she cut him off. “Or should I conjure a stretcher for you instead?” she teased. Aragorn gave her a withering look, but she could see a little gleam of humor in his eyes.

 

The pair mounted Brego and they were off. The ride was short, but long enough to glimpse the vast army of Uruk-Hai as they marched from Isengard.

 

“Holy shit,” Ginny cursed under her breath. “How many is that, eight thousand? nine?”

 

“Ten thousand strong, I should think,” Aragorn said. “Come, we must hurry,” he said before kicking Brego’s sides, setting the horse off to Helm’s Deep.

 

* * *

 

When the pair reached the gates of the fortress, the guards opened the way for them and they were greeted with murmurs of “they’re alive,” “he’s alive,” “she’s alive,” and many variations of the same. As they dismounted, one voice carried loudly above the din, accompanied with thumping and stomping footsteps.

 

“Where are they? Where are they? Get outta' the way, I’m gonna kill ‘em!” they heard Gimli’s voice calling. Ginny and Aragorn exchanged a look of well concealed mirth but turned their eyes towards Gimli once he finally made his way through the crowd. He grasped both of them by the arm and pulled the crossest expression Ginny had ever seen on the dwarf’s face.

 

“You are the luckiest, the canniest, and the most reckless man I ever knew!” he said to Aragorn. “And you,” he said, turning his attention to Ginny, “you may have saved him, but don’t you ever do anything so reckless again,” he said. Ginny nodded. “Oh, bless you lass and laddie,” Gimli said, bringing the two in for a tight hug. Ginny patted him on the back a little awkwardly, but gave the dwarf the tiniest of smiles when he released them.

 

“Gimli, where is the king?” Aragorn asked the dwarf urgently. Suddenly grave and brought back to the present, Gimli nodded his head in the direction of the keep. With a clap on the dwarf’s shoulder, Aragorn set off to find the king, Ginny hot on his heels. They ducked and wove their way through the crowds, up staircases, and down roads, finally reaching the walkway that led to the keep. They bounded up the stairs and when they reached the top, they were quickly stopped by Legolas, who was standing in the middle of the walkway, his arms folded across his chest. 

 

Ginny and Aragorn stumbled back a little, not prepared for seeing Legolas standing right there, but quickly regained their composure.

 

“ _You’re late,_ ” Legolas commented in his native tongue. His eyes quickly scanned the two of them, his gaze settling on the ranger. “You look terrible,” he said. Ginny couldn’t hold in her snort of laughter at Aragorn’s incredulous expression and Legolas’s raised eyebrow. The corners of the elf prince’s mouth turned upwards into an immeasurably tiny smirk, sending Aragorn’s face into an ear-splitting grin. The trio exchanged welcomes and how are yous and Legolas fished something out of his pocket. He gestured for Aragorn to extend his hand and placed the green and silver brooch from Lothlorien in his palm. 

 

“ _Hannon-le_ ,” Aragorn thanked him before placing the object in his own pocket to reattach to his cloak later. For now, they had to talk to the King. Ginny nodded in the direction of the wide double doors and Aragorn nodded back in agreement. He took the lead and strode to the doors, confidently and surely pushing the doors open and flipping his hair out of his face, Ginny and Legolas right behind him. The sound of the doors hitting the stone echoed through the hall, rousing the inhabitants. Upon their entrance, Théoden rose from his seat and his advisors turned to see what the commotion was.

 

“My lord, may we speak in private?” Ginny asked the King directly. Théoden nodded swiftly, ordering for his guards to exit the hall, leaving only himself, his advisors, and the three members of the Fellowship. As soon as the doors were closed again, Théoden turned to speak.

 

“How is it that you are alive?” he asked, letting a little curiosity slip through into his voice.

 

“I fell into the river and was rescued by Ginevra, my lord,” Aragorn answered.

 

“But really, that isn’t the issue right now,” Ginny cut in quickly. “Saruman’s army of Uruk-Hai, a great host, are marching to Helm’s Deep as we speak,” she said.

 

“A great host, you say?” Théoden responded.

 

“All Isengard is emptied,” Ginny confirmed.

 

“How many?”

 

“Ten thousand strong at least,” Aragorn answered.

 

“Ten thousand?” Théoden echoed, more to himself than to the others.

 

“It is an army bred for a single purpose,” Aragorn continued, “to destroy the world of men.”

 

“They will be here by nightfall,” Ginny added gravely. Théoden paced the hall, mulling over their words and making quick decisions in his mind. He crossed the room a second time before turning to face the Fellowship once more.

 

“Let them come,” he said, turning sharply from them and exiting the hall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


	21. Stressors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Preparing for a battle is stressful as fuck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to chapter 21! I still don't own Harry Potter or Lord of the Rings. If I did, I would own more than two pairs of jeans that fit me properly.
> 
> Enjoy!

Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli followed the King out into the fortress to discuss strategy, but Ginny opted to stay behind. 

 

“Are you sure?” Aragorn asked her. She nodded.

 

“I need to talk to Fred and George,” she said. With a nod and directions to the twins temporary quarters, the three left the hall, leaving Ginny to find her brothers. She navigated the hallways until she found the room, where she paused with her fist raised to knock on the door. Steeling herself, she rapped sharply on the wood and waited. She heard footsteps inside the room and couldn’t bring herself to look up as Fred opened the door. 

 

“So, our prodigal sister has returned,” he said.

 

“Looks like, Freddie,” George agreed. Ginny winced at their tone. There was none of their usual cheerfulness in this pissed off excuse for banter.

 

“In my defense, I did apologize,” Ginny said, trying to placate them as she entered the room, still looking down at her feet. She chanced a look up at them. Fred was standing with his arms crossed while George was seated and leaning forward on his knees, both of their faces unreadable. 

 

“Gin,” Fred began, “you can’t just pull shit like that,” he said.

 

“We thought you knew better than that,” George added. Ginny opened her mouth to protest, but Fred cut her off.

 

“No, Gin, don’t. We understand that you wanted to go after Aragorn, we do. We get that you were worried about him and that you wanted to save him.”

 

“But you could’ve told us what you were planning, Gin,” George continued. “You could’ve told us what you wanted to do, really talked to us, and we would’ve helped you.”

 

“Then why did you stop me when I was going to climb down to find him after the fight?” she asked sharply, crossing her own arms now.

 

“Because you weren’t thinking straight,” George answered, “and we needed to get out of there as fast as possible.” 

 

“We know that we were wrong,” Fred said quickly when he noticed Ginny’s fingers twitching towards her wand. “We didn’t listen to you when you said you knew Aragorn was alive, and we’re sorry,” he said.

 

“Good,” Ginny said crossly, staring them down until none of them could keep a straight face anymore. She burst out giggling and the twins rushed her with open arms,hugging her until she had to remind them that she needed air. 

 

“Fred! George! Ginny!” came a voice from the hallway. The three Weasleys turned at the sound of Legolas’s voice to see the elf standing in the doorway.

 

“What is it?” Fred replied.

 

“We have gone with Théoden to discuss strategy, but we have agreed that we could use some of your magical defenses,” he explained. The Weasleys nodded in agreement. “Come, Théoden has asked Aragorn to work with you to prepare the defenses,” he said, leading the wizards and witch out into the sunlight where Aragorn was talking with Gimli. “Although he really shouldn’t, he is dead on his feet,” Legolas muttered under his breath to Ginny. She nodded in agreement. 

 

“Honestly, he nearly drowns and as soon I get the water out of his bloody _lungs,_ the first thing he wants to do when we get here is prepare battle strategy,” she groused. “I swear to Merlin, I’ll curse him into unconsciousness if that’s the only way he’ll get any rest,” she said, eliciting a grin from the elf. Despite his fatigue, Aragorn led them through the keep, briefly explaining Théoden’s plan and adding notes of his own.

 

“We should have two of you up on the wall with the reserves,” Aragorn said to the three red-heads. “There is opportunity for both defensive and offensive action from that height and you can support the archers from above the gate.” Ginny noticed, as he walked, that his steps were sluggish and he was favoring his right leg. _I swear to god_ … It seemed that Legolas had noticed the same thing.

 

“Aragorn, you must rest,” he said, stopping the man in his tracks, “You are no good to us half alive!” Aragorn opened his mouth to argue and the twins made a hasty retreat under the pretense of discussing what spells they would use and where, deciding that they didn’t want to be around when Ginny’s temper inevitably blew. Before Aragorn could get any words out, however, there was a shout from the crowd of people heading into the caves.

 

“My lord!” said the feminine voice, “Aragorn!”

 

Aragorn, Legolas, and Ginny turned to see Éowyn weaving her way through the crowd towards them. 

 

“I’m to be sent with the women into the caves,” she told them.

 

“That’s an honorable charge,” Aragorn tried to placate her, though he had a feeling in the back of his head that it would do no good. _That argument certainly has never worked with Ginny,_ he thought.

 

“To mind the children, to find food and bedding when the men return! What renown is there in that?”

 

“My lady, a time may come for valor without renown,” Aragorn said calmly, “who then will your people look to in the last defense?”

 

“Let me fight,” Éowyn persisted. Ginny could see the conflicting emotions in Aragorn’s eyes before he spoke.

 

“It is not in my power to command it,” he said with a tone of finality before turning to follow the twins, Legolas right behind him. Ginny went to follow, but Éowyn spoke up.

 

“You are not commanded to stay behind in the caves,” Éowyn commented to Ginny, her body language sullen and just a little bit hostile. Ginny turned back to her with a sigh. 

 

“That doesn’t mean they haven’t tried,” she said with a hint of a grin, trying to diffuse the tension. “My brothers and Aragorn never tried to stop me from going out and patrolling with the rangers before this all started, but ever since,” she paused, looking for something to say that wouldn’t give away the Ring, “our quest began and this larger war started, they’ve suddenly become more concerned for my well being. They’re suddenly worried that I’m going to die and so they’ve been trying to get me to stay behind from battle,” she said. Éowyn nodded in sympathy.

 

“For so long, I trained to fight. In secret until I was sixteen, but with a teacher since then. I learned to use a sword and a bow,” Éowyn said, “Some have even called me a shieldmaiden,” she said with a bittersweet smile. Ginny smiled at that. 

 

“That’s good, though! I think it’s great,” she said. “Who ever said that only the _men_ can learn to fight?” she asked with a grin. Éowyn returned it, but it quickly disappeared. 

 

“But you are to fight this battle, Ginny,” she said sullenly. “You will fight alongside the soldiers and do so with valor and renown, while I am to mind the women and children and elders, to make sure they don’t perish, and find food and bedding for the men who survive when the battle is over,” she said, steadily growing more and more agitated as she spoke. Ginny placed a hand on Éowyn’s shoulder, prompting the blonde haired woman to look up at her. 

 

“Éowyn,” she began, “I know this won’t help and that others have definitely said the same thing to you over and over again,” she said, “but you have a responsibility. You’re like - you’re the _princess_ , for Merlin’s sake! It’s your _job_ to take care of the people and when you do a kick-arse job at it, your people will honor and praise you just like you deserve.

 

“And, now I know you don’t want to hear this but you know it’s a possibility,” Ginny continued, “what if something happens to King Théoden? What if something happens to your brother?” Ginny asked. Éowyn’s stance got defensive and Ginny could tell from looking at her that she wasn’t prepared to listen. “No, Éowyn, listen to me,” Ginny said, turning Éowyn back towards her and commanding her attention. “If anything happens to the King or his heir, you will be the one the people look to, not because of victories in battle, but because you are a good leader and have a kind heart. You _need_ to survive this and the best way to ensure that is by taking care of those in the caves.”

 

Éowyn nodded. 

 

“Thank you, Ginny,” she said. “And please, do try not to fall in battle. It’s nice to have another like-minded woman to talk to around here.”

 

Ginny grinned.

 

“If I die, I give you permission to kick my arse in the afterlife,” she joked. “Seriously though, you need to get to the caves. Your people need you,” she said. With quick farewells, the two women went their separate ways - Éowyn to the caves, and Ginny to the armory. 

 

* * *

 

When she got there, the place was packed full of Rohirric men and boys, all of them picking up their armor and weapons for the coming battle. Ginny passed an eye over them and felt her heart sink. These were boys, old men, men who had only ever held a hay fork or a shovel, never a sword or spear. On one side of the armory Ginny saw Gimli, Legolas, and Aragorn, and she made her way towards them, not without quite a few excuse mes and pardon mes. Looking out on these “soldiers,” she felt the hope she had been trying to keep alight sputter and fail.

 

“Farmers, ferriers, stable boys?” she asked quietly as she reached the Fellowship. “They’re no soldiers.”

 

“Most have seen too many winters,” Gimli said.

 

“Or too few,” Legolas added. “Look at them, they’re frightened. I can see it in their eyes,” he said, and the room quieted. “ _And they should be! Three hundred against ten thousand?”_ he exclaimed in elvish. Ginny wanted to retort but Aragorn got there first.

 

“ _They have more hope of defending themselves here than at Edoras,”_ he answered in kind, trying to calm the elf, but he was having none of it.

 

“ _Aragorn, they cannot win this fight,”_ he said. _“They are all going to die!_ ”

 

“Then I shall die as one of them!” Aragorn shouted back, slipping back into the common tongue. The armory was so silent in that moment that one could hear the clinking of chain mail from men’s breathing. Aragorn turned sharply and stalked out of the armory, but where he was headed, they could not say. Ginny went to follow him, but Gimli stopped her with a hand on her arm.

 

“Let him go, lass,” he said, “Let him be.” Ginny huffed, but she stopped herself from following him. Gimli was right, and she would find him eventually. But when she did find him, what would she say? If she had lost hope, how could she rekindle it in him? Ginny lost herself in thought and didn’t notice Gimli and Legolas leaving her alone with her thoughts. She worried and fretted until she felt the bench she was sitting on shift a little from someone else sitting down. It was George, and shortly after, Fred joined her on her other side. 

 

“Why the long face, Gin?” George asked her with a nudge to the shoulder.

 

“Besides the whole, you know, impending war thing,” Fred continued, nudging her other shoulder. 

 

“You missed it, Aragorn and Legolas got in to a bit of a fight,” Ginny started, relaying their spat to her brothers. “Gimli said I should wait to talk to him, and I have been, but what the _hell_ can I say to him?” Ginny softly voiced her worries. “How can I give him hope if I have none myself?”

 

“Merlin, Ginny, you’re making it seem like we’re all gonna die bloody deaths at the hands of uruk-hai or something,” Fred said with a bit of a crooked grin, earning himself a slap on the shoulder from Ginny.

 

“Gin,” George started, “we are going to be fine. With all the wards that Freddie and I have put up on this place, it’s about as safe as it can get. We can protect these people and even when Saruman’s army does break through, we have enough soldiers and competent fighters amongst us to put up a decent fight.

 

“I know it sounds like a load of cheesy bullshit, but we’ve done all we can, and now all we can do is hope,” George said, and sure enough, Ginny felt something beginning to flicker back to life within her. “We just gotta have hope that we’ll win,” he said, taking his little sister into a hug that Fred joined on her other side. 

 

“Thanks, Georgie,” Ginny said softly, “I needed that.”

 

* * *

 

Ginny heeded Gimli’s advice about leaving Aragorn alone for about ten minutes after her talk with her brothers, but by that point, she just couldn’t stop herself from going to find him. He’d had enough time to brood, now he needed to talk. Legolas offered to go with her, but she convinced him to stay behind. She had a feeling that the Ranger wouldn’t be wanting to talk to the elf at the moment, but maybe he would after a while longer. 

 

She combed the walkways and streets of the fortress, asking passers-by if they’d seen him, and finally a soldier said that he had spotted him sitting on the steps that lead up to the keep. Ginny thanked him and made a beeline for the keep and sure enough, there he was, sitting alone, sharpening his sword. She was struck with the memory of finding him in a similar position but instead of the steps to the Hornburg, he was seated on the stairs leading up Meduseld.

 

“Starting to be a pattern, this,” she said as she approached him, causing him to look up from his blade. “The whole finding you brooding on the steps outside Théoden’s hall thing. One day, when you’re the King of Gondor,” she said, taking a seat next to Aragorn, “you’re going to get pissed off at me or Legolas or Gimli, and after a week of searching Minas Tirith, we’re going to get word from Edoras that the King of Gondor is brooding on the steps of Meduseld.” Aragorn ducked his head to hide a grin and Ginny nudged his shoulder with her own. 

 

“It’s going to be okay, you know that right? I have faith that you can lead us through this. And if we die? Then we died for a worthy cause and will meet again in whatever world is after this one,” she said. Aragorn nodded, but his grin had since faded. He wanted to be reassured by Ginny’s words, but the twisting, nagging, feeling in his gut that something would go wrong didn’t lessen.

 

“I worry for the people of Rohan,” he said. “I worry that they will fall,” he started, but a look at Ginny’s face silenced him. The care, faith, loyalty, hope, and _something_ else in her eyes was almost overwhelming. If she could have so much hope, surely he could as well. “But I still have hope,” he added, giving her a smile.

 

The pair sat in companionable silence for awhile until a young boy, thirteen, maybe fifteen at the oldest, slowly made his way down the steps, pausing halfway down. He was holding one of the old swords that the soldiers had been distributing in the armory, old, stained, beat up, and clearly foreign in this boy’s hands. He looked absolutely terrified. 

 

“Give me your sword,” Aragorn said, catching the boy’s attention. The boy complied and handed Aragorn the hilt of his sword. 

 

“What is your name?” Ginny asked him carefully.

 

“Haleth, son of Hama, my lady,” he answered politely. “The men are saying that we will not live out the night. They say that it is hopeless,” he said, and it sounded like he believed what the men were saying. After exchanging a look with Ginny, Aragorn stood, blade in hand, swung it in a few experimental circles, and tested the one-handed grip. From what Ginny could tell, it was well crafted.

 

“This is a good sword, Haleth, son of Hama,” he said, shifting his grip and handing the sword back to Haleth. Aragorn crouched a little to be eye level with the boy and placed a hand on his shoulder.

 

“There is always hope,” he said, before sending the boy on his way. He turned back to see Ginny smiling at him with pride, making a certain warmth well up inside him. 

 

“Come, there is much to do before we can fight,” he said, extending a hand to help Ginny to her feet. She took it and pulled herself upright and the pair made their way to the armory. It was time to prepare for war.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! If you liked it, let me know what you liked in a comment!


	22. Brutish

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Uruk-Hai are truly disgusting brutes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I still don't own Harry Potter or Lord of the Rings. If I did, I would be a very rich woman.
> 
> Enjoy!

Ginny slipped the chain shirt over her head and snatched up her gauntlets and vambraces. She strapped them on around her forearms and flexed her fingers inside the gauntlets, getting a feel for the leather on her skin. The material was stiff, but it was pliable enough to be comfortable on her forearms. She ran her ringers over the vambraces and the leather was smooth and cool beneath her touch, and the dark, oil-stained color contrasted slightly with the stamped and embossed image of a rearing horse. She tore her gaze from the piece and located the greaves and cuisses she had been leant before strapping them to her calves and thighs. 

 

She got up from her seat on one of the benches, going to find the leather vest she would be wearing in place of a breastplate. She couldn't stand heavy plate armor - it was restricting and uncomfortable - and had instead opted for the chain mail and leather. She looked first at the table where her other armor had been, but it wasn’t there. Puzzled, she turned to look elsewhere, only to see Aragorn standing there, her vest in his hands and a bittersweet smile on his lips. With wordless communication comprised of gestures and nods, Ginny turned around and let him help her into it. She shrugged the vest over her chain-clad shoulders and felt Aragorn’s hands smoothing it across her back. It felt nice, Ginny noted in her head, and she subconsciously arched her back a little into his touch. _What are you doing? Snap out of it!_ she scolded herself when she realized what she was doing. Ginny shook herself out of her daze and shrugged his hands away. She turned back to face him, swiftly doing up the buckles in the front. When she finished, she scowled at it a bit, earning a chuckle from Aragorn. Ginny looked up at him, pursing her lips.

 

“What?” she asked, a little snappishly.

 

“It’s nothing,” he fibbed.

 

“Liar,” she said, calling him out. When he quirked an eyebrow at her, she sighed exasperatedly. “It’s this damn armor,” Ginny griped.

 

“What about?” Aragorn asked, his voice two parts amused and confused. 

 

“It’s made for a man,” Ginny explained grumpily, “and I don’t fit in it.” 

 

She tugged on the hem and tried to pull and adjust the awkward folding and bunching around her breasts, but it did no good. Aragorn tried to stifle his laughter at her disgruntled face, but he failed, letting out a loud burst of laughter, one that Ginny slapped his arm for. She tried to keep a straight face, but Aragorn’s laughter was infectious and Ginny soon found herself joining in. At the sound of their laughter, Fred and George made their way into the armory, greeting the pair jovially. The twins were already decked out in their armor, _their properly fitting armor_ , Ginny noted, and the Weasleys stood aside, talking with each other and with Aragorn as the ranger donned his own armor. 

 

It took so much will power - _too much_ \- for Ginny to keep from staring as he pulled on his leather jerkin and strapped on his belts. _Fuck_ , she berated herself, _I’ve got it bad_. Just as Aragorn was finishing up, Legolas strode into the room, stopping when Aragorn turned to face him. When their eyes met, a palpable tension filled the room until Legolas broke it.

 

“We have trusted you this far, you have not led us astray,” he said, cutting straight to the point. “Forgive me. I was wrong to despair,” he admitted. Aragorn shook his head at him and approached the elf.

 

“ _There is nothing to forgive, Legolas,_ ” he said, clapping him on the shoulder. With the closest thing to a grim smile that Legolas could muster, he returned the gesture. There was then a rattling and clinking noise that came from the doorway, and the occupants of the room turned to see Gimli standing there, holding his chain shirt bunched up under his arms, looking very grumpy. Once the dwarf saw that he had all their attentions, he dropped the chain mail and let it fall to the floor, where it comically pooled around his feet.

 

“If we had time I’d get this adjusted,” he said gruffly. “It’s a little tight across the chest,” he explained, eliciting snorts of laughter from all of them but Legolas, who seemed not to get what they found so amusing.

 

“Your breasts too big for your shirt too, Gimli?” Ginny joked with a teasing grin, sending the twins into a roaring fit of laughter. At her words, Fred and George would forever swear that they saw Legolas blush. Gimli laughed at her teasing and at Legolas’s slightly pinker face.

 

“Aye, lass, seems they don’t make armor for our kinds,” he said with a genial smile. 

 

“Here,” Ginny said, pulling her wand out and flicking it at Gimli’s chain shirt, effectively shortening it. “So at least you’re not tripping over it. Not much I can do about the fit though, otherwise we’d both be more comfortable,” she said. Gimli started to thank her, but was interrupted by a blaring horn sounding from outside. 

 

“That is no orc horn,” Legolas said, recognizing it immediately and rushing out of the armory, the rest of the fellowship hot on his heels. It sounded two more times as they made their way down to the gate, and they were greeted by help that hey had not expected. Elves, hundreds, maybe thousands, of elves all in deep blue cloaks and armed with longbows, led by none other than Haldir of Lothlorien. 

 

“I bring word from Elrond of Rivendell,” they caught him saying as they rushed down stairs and walkways. “An alliance once existed between elves and men,” the elf said. “Long ago, we fought and died together.” The fellowship was almost there now, and Haldir had taken notice of them. “We come to honor that allegiance.”

 

“Mae govannen, Haldir,” Aragorn greeted the marchwarden as he approached him, surprising everyone by embracing the elf in a quick hug that Haldir returned with a pat on the ranger’s back. “You are most welcome,” Aragorn said, and Ginny could tell without seeing his face, that he was smiling. They had hope - actual, real hope.

 

“We are proud to fight alongside men once more,” Haldir said to the King, and they swept off to the keep to discuss battle plans. 

 

* * *

 

Ginny knew the plans and she knew they should work, but she couldn’t help but feel uneasy. The twins were up on the higher walls; George was stationed with King Théoden and Fred was on the other side, both of them preparing to repair the wards on the fortress and attack their oncoming foes. The reserves were up top with them, but Ginny was on the wall with Aragorn, Legolas, Gimli, and the elven warriors. She too was armed with her wand, and was going over spells and charms in her head at a rapid speed, careful not to accidentally cast them nonverbally. _Confringo, incendio, petrificus totalus, diffindo, confundo, expelliarmus, reducto, impedimenta, locomotor mortis, expulso, stupefy,_ she went through spell after spell, until her train of thought was interrupted by Gimli’s voice.

 

“You could’ve picked a better spot,” he groused, trying to jump high enough to see over the wall. Ginny chuckled at him and started when she felt a warm hand on her shoulder. It was Aragorn. He kept his hand there as he made his way behind her and Ginny found comfort in the warm weight of his arm around her shoulders. 

 

“Hey,” she greeted him. He gave her a grim little smile, but simultaneously rubbed her shoulder, nonverbally telling her to relax, that it would be okay. 

 

“Well, lad,” Gimli said by way of greeting, “whatever luck you live by, let’s hope it lasts the night,” he said. Aragorn nodded. A bolt of lightning shattered the black sky, illuminating the homogenous mass of marching uruk-hai. It wasn’t long before a clap of thunder rumbled through the fortress. 

 

“Your friends are with you, Aragorn,” Legolas said, though his eyes were fixed on the approaching army.

 

“Lets hope _they_ last the night,” Gimli mumbled. Ginny looked at Aragorn’s face, in his eyes, and she was suddenly overwhelmed with the urge to hug him and never let go. She could lose him- _no. Ginny, don’t think like that. Everything is going to be okay and you can hug the shit out of him after we win the battle._ Ginny took a deep breath to calm her nerves and settled for squeezing his hand - the one that still rested on her shoulder. Aragorn returned the gesture and then he was gone, headed to the center of the wall where he would be commanding the soldiers on the wall.

 

Another bolt of lightning and clap of thunder, and the rain hit. It bounced and pinged off of their armor and splashed against the stone. Thinking quickly and digging up memories of rainy quidditch matches, Ginny cast an impervious charm on herself, repelling the rainwater. She sent two patronuses, one to each of her brothers with her idea, and soon the entire assembled forces at Helm’s Deep had had the spell cast upon them as well. All the while, Saruman’s forces marched ever closer, their roars and rhythmic stomping sending chills down Ginny’s spine. 

 

“ _Show them no mercy,_ ” Aragorn commanded in elvish as he paced along the wall, “ _for you shall receive none!_ ” His voice brought Ginny’s previously wandering attention back to the moment at hand and sharpened her focus. Down below, an Uruk who stood atop a large rock held a torch aloft and made a guttural roaring noise, to which their troops responded to by stopping their march, silencing their footsteps.

 

“What’s happening out there?” Gimli asked Ginny and Legolas as he tried again to jump high enough to see over the wall.

 

“Shall I describe it to you?” Legolas asked the dwarf, “or would you like me to find you a box?” he suggested, a shit-eating grin on his face as he looked down at Gimli. Legolas’s remark earned a chuckle from both red-heads present.

 

Another roar from the Uruk general, and they started thumping their spears on the ground, and beating their chests, creating a sinister and foreboding rhythm of thuds, growls, and clanks. On the battlements and on the wall, on command, bows were drawn and aimed. The two armies remained there, each trying to intimidate the other, for what felt like forever, until an arrow flew from what must have been the bow of an old soldier and killed an Uruk in the front line, silencing the Uruk-Hai army.

 

“ _Dartho!_ ” Aragorn ordered sharply, commanding his archers to hold their fire. The silence was deafening until the dead Uruk fell forward with a clang and a thud, sending the other Uruk-Hai back into a frenzy. Their general roared a command, and they charged.

 

“ _Prepare to fire!_ ” Aragorn commanded, and as one, the elven archers drew arrows and pulled back their bowstrings as Ginny raised her wand. They were closer now. Almost within range.

 

“ _Their armour is weak at the neck and beneath the arms,_ ” Legolas informed those around them, and Ginny noticed them adjusting their aim out of the corner of her eye. She let the magic in her veins build, preparing to set it loose. 

 

“ _Release arrows!_ ” Aragorn ordered, and the archers obeyed. The first few lines fell like dominoes, thudding to the ground. 

 

“ _Locomotor mortis maxima!_ ” Ginny shouted, sweeping her wand across the next line, locking their legs together and sending them toppling down, only to be trampled by their fellows. 

 

“Did they hit anything?” Gimli asked Ginny and Legolas, to which they nodded in answer. There were cries of “fire!” from the higher battlements, and another volley of arrows rained down upon the Uruks, killing some that Ginny had cursed and others who were resuming the charge. Aragorn commanded another volley from the elves, and still more uruks fell, though their numbers seemed to never end. They simply stomped over their fallen, determined to get in close to the fortress. 

 

They got about ten meters from the wall when there was a rippling in the air and they stopped short, trying to force their way through a magical barrier. Ginny glanced up at Fred and George and saw them both with wands raised, straining with the effort of keeping the shield up. Aragorn caught Ginny’s eye and she nodded, knowing without him needing to say it that he wanted to know if it was safe to prepare another volley. At her nod, Aragorn called for open fire, and the Uruk-Hai pressed up against the magical shield fell, along with some that pushed behind them. The men fired once more as well, but the shield then began to break. 

 

One spot, only wide enough for one Uruk to pass through at a time, opened up, and Ginny’s eyes darted back to her brothers to see them having a wordless conversation from two different towers before George said something to King Theoden and they slowly lowered their wands. The shield broke, and suddenly, crossbow bolts were taking down elves left and right. Next to Ginny, Gimli shifted his grip on his axe, eagerly bouncing on the balls of his feet.

 

“Send them to me, come on!” he said, more to himself than anyone else. Ginny disarmed a few Uruks in the front line and she lamented the fact that she knew no way to expand that spell to disarm an army. 

 

“ _Ladders!_ ” Aragorn warned them, and sure enough, the Uruks were raising ladders, the wood thudding as it hit the wall. She was able to destroy a few of them with reductor curses, but not nearly enough to stem the flow of Uruk-Hai. 

 

“Good!” Gimli said, and Ginny couldn’t help but laugh at him. She could understand though. She couldn’t wait to draw her sword and do some actual fighting. She had some serious anger and stress to get out and these Uruk-Hai would be perfect targets for her stress management. 

 

“Swords!” was the next command and Ginny obeyed eagerly. 

 

Gimli got the first hit - swinging his axe into the first Uruk to breach their bit of wall, but another one was right after it and Ginny made quick work of him, freeing his head from his miserable shoulders. Her eyes darted around, searching for targets and looking for threats. She never had to go far to find something to kill. The Uruk-Hai did not stop coming. They seemed to be never-ending. She found herself fighting back to back with one of the elven soldiers, the two of them looking out for each other as they fought, until he was thrown off the wall, screaming until he hit the ground. Ginny whirled around and decapitated the Uruk that did it, before gutting another one. 

 

She heard Legolas and Gimli’s competitive counting of kills again, catching a nineteen from Legolas and what could’ve been either seven or eleven from Gimli. When she found herself without any Uruk-Hai in the vicinity, she quickly drew her wand and cast another reductor curse at the nearest ladder, disintegrating it into dust and sending the uruks that had been climbing it straight to the ground. 

 

The fight was chaotic. Ginny was slaying Uruk-Hai right and left, arrows were still shooting down from the wall and back up at them, there were Uruks scaling the wall and Elves, men, and Uruk-Hai falling from it. Occasionally, out of the corner of her eye, Ginny would spot a jet of light shooting through the air and it was reassuring to her - if Fred and George were casting spells, they must be okay, she told herself. Somewhere in the fight, she made her way over to Gimli, where he was standing on the wall, for Merlin’s sake, knocking down Uruk-Hai on the ladders on either side of him. Ginny watched his back, fighting any Uruk-Hai who tried to come up behind the dwarf unawares. 

 

“Seventeen! Eighteen! Nineteen!” Gimli counted as he went, and Ginny faintly heard a call of “twenty-four!” from the other end of the wall. Ginny and Gimli had a good system going on, but they were interrupted when Aragorn rushed past them, making eye contact with Ginny as he passed.

 

“The causeway! Causeway!” he shouted, and Ginny whipped her head around to see that a faction of the Uruk army was, sure enough, marching up the causeway with their shields above their heads, making them look collectively like some sort of scaly monster. Elven arrows shot across to their marks and Uruks fell from the edge of the causeway, all while Ginny found a safer place to stand still while she cast her spell. 

 

“ _Impedimenta maxima!_ ” she cried, and as soon as her curse hit the advancing Uruk-Hai, they slowed their progress, as if they were trying to wade through water rather than walk on stone. The spell should’ve held for a good five minutes, but it was only one before the Uruks broke free from the charmand resumed their progress with more vigor than before. Ginny could feel panic welling up inside her gut. She was startled out of her thoughts by an Uruk nearly cutting her arm off, and she managed to dodge it, but she earned a slice to her upper left arm before she could cut the bastard back. 

 

She was turning to find another Uruk to kill when suddenly, out of nowhere, something exploded at the base of the wall. The blast was huge and it sent stone flying everywhere as the fortress rumbled with the aftershock. Ginny turned to see what the fuck had happened and she froze. 

 

The wall was broken.

 

Helm’s Deep had been breached. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


	23. Evasion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It takes a special kind of reflex to evade death while in battle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still don't own Harry Potter or Lord of the Rings. If I did, I could afford to buy myself a new laptop that actually had a decent battery life.

_The wall was broken._

 

_Helm’s Deep had been breached._

 

A whole section of the damn place had been destroyed - there was a gaping hole in the middle of the wall and Uruk-Hai were quickly recovering from the blast and heading for the breach. 

 

_Shit. Shit, shit, shit,_ Ginny repeatedly swore internally and a few times under her breath. That was where she had last seen Aragorn and Gimli. _Shit, fuck, shit, shit, fuck!_ She fought her way to the break in the wall and without waiting to think about the consequences, she jumped, regretting her decision as soon as she hit the ground, a jolt shooting up her legs from the impact. 

 

Stubbornly ignoring the pain in her legs, Ginny searched frantically for Aragorn and found him lying facedown on the muddy earth. She scrambled to his side and helped him up with a heave. He took a moment to regain his bearings but with a look, he reassured Ginny that he was okay and she returned the wordless reassurance. They were both fine. A little dazed, but fine. Something back up on the wall caught Aragorn’s eye. Ginny turned to see what it was and spotted Gimli, just as he followed Ginny's lead and leapt off of the wall and down to join them. 

 

Gimli landed with a splash in the water that pooled around their feet, and he got up just in time to fight back against the Uruk-Hai that were beginning to make their way through the rubble of the blasted wall. Ginny shouted for Gimli to get out of the way and thankfully he listened, leaving Ginny free to cast Locomotor mortis maxima again. The closest rows of advancing Uruk-Hai fell, their locked legs leaving them on the ground to be trampled by their comrades. 

 

“Ginny!” Aragorn called her. She whipped her head around to see what was the matter, and saw him with his sword drawn, standing at the head of the elven ground troops, all of them with bows drawn. She hastily got out of their way, and as soon as she was, Aragorn gave the order, and elven arrows perforated the Uruk-Hai as they breached the wall.

 

“ _Herio!_ ” Aragorn commanded, and they charged. Ginny was right with them, the elven forces crashing headlong into the oncoming Uruk-Hai. Ginny and Aragorn fought their way to each other on the battlefield and they fell into their familiar pattern. They fought back to back, working together with fluid cooperation they had perfected with years of practice. They looked out for each other. Somewhere in the chaos, Ginny found herself looking out for both Aragorn and Gimli as the ranger fished the dwarf out of the murky water he had been knocked into. As soon as the dwarf was back on his feet, Aragorn was back at her side.

 

Ginny lost herself in that rhythm of slashing and stabbing, punctuated by a few kicks and spells here and there. She noticed Legolas had made his way down to ground level with them, wielding his twin blades with frightening speed and agility. Her eyes soon found Gimli in her peripherals, fighting fiercely. Ginny slashed an Uruk across the stomach and she grimly noted that its guts fell before it did. She beheaded another and stabbed the heart of the next. 

 

Behind her, Ginny heard Aragorn cry out in fury and she whipped around just in time to see a blade pierce the neck of an Uruk that had been seconds away from cleaving her skull in two. 

 

Ginny's eyes followed the Uruk as it collapsed, revealing Aragorn standing behind it, sword hanging limply in his uncharacteristically loose grip, his eyes wide and a bit unfocused. 

 

"Hey!" she said sharply, bringing him back to the land of the living. He shook off whatever trancelike state he'd been in and raised his sword, ready to fight again. Ginny nodded at him and he returned it, but Ginny detected a strange sense of fear and sudden protectiveness. She shrugged it off. Now was not the time to be scrutinizing Aragorn's every facial expression. They were quick to get back into their rhythm, but Ginny noticed that Aragorn was being more protective of her than usual. As an Uruk approached her, the creature's presence begging Ginny to end it's miserable life, she made a mental note to ask Aragorn about it later. Her blade separated the Uruk's head from its shoulders with a swift movement. They continued in this fashion for a while longer, Aragorn fighting skillfully with his sword and Ginny throwing spells left and right, until they heard a shout from above.

 

“Aragorn!” Théoden called from the wall, commanding the ranger's attention. Before he could even ask her, Ginny simply nodded at him, letting him know that she would cover him while he listened to the King. “Fall back to the keep! Get your men out of there!” he ordered. Aragorn nodded curtly.

 

“ _To the keep!_ ” he commanded the elven soldiers, “ _Pull back to the keep!_ ” 

 

Ginny repeated the order in the common tongue for the men on the ground, and she and Aragorn made their way to the back, helping to cover the retreating troops. Out of the corner of her eye, Ginny spotted Legolas and another elf bodily dragging Gimli off the battlefield, the dwarf kicking and protesting all the way. Ginny scanned the battlefield for remaining soldiers and spotted a few men who hadn’t heard the order. 

 

“ _Sonorus_ ,” she cast on herself while Aragorn watched her back. 

 

“Pull back to the keep!” she commanded in westron, her voice projecting across the battlefield and over the din. Aragorn got her attention and nodded up at the wall, where Haldir was still fighting. He would have given the order himself, but since Ginny had already charmed her voice, he let her do it for him.

 

“Haldir! _To the keep!_ ” she called to the elf, her voice still loud enough for him to hear clearly from his distance. He nodded that he had heard her, and she nodded back before raising her wand to her throat and murmuring “ _Quietus_ ,” to end the amplifying charm. They backed their way to the stairs leading up to the wall and were about to mount the steps when Aragorn’s voice rang out loudly.

 

“Haldir!” he shouted, and the next thing Ginny knew, he was furiously fighting his way up to where they had last seen the elf. She stole glances up there as she raced up the stairs and saw the marchwarden falling to his knees, blood staining his golden hair. Aragorn reached him just in time to catch the elf as he fell, but he was dead. Anger overtook him and he went to attack the few remaining Uruk-Hai on the wall, but Ginny stopped him.

 

“We need to get back to the keep,” she said urgently, and Aragorn reluctantly obeyed. He didn’t like it, but she was right. They had to join the King. They looked for their options to get back inside, but Uruks were quickly scaling the wall. Ginny swore under her breath.

 

“Hold on tight,” she said as she grasped Aragorn’s hand and turned on the spot, disapparating with a loud _crack_. They reappeared behind the gate, just inside the back entrance and Aragorn doubled over, his hands on his knees in an attempt to calm the nausea that he still got whenever Ginny or the twins took him side-along. Ginny rubbed his back a little, but he pulled himself together quickly, standing tall and taking a moment to breathe. Ginny looked up at him and she was worried and a little concerned to see so much grief and fear mixed in with the determination in his eyes. She brought a hand up to his shoulder and met his eyes with her own worried ones. He shook his head to tell her that he’d explain later, and her lips quirked up into a bittersweet smile. 

 

“Come on,” she said, nodding towards the gate, where the soldiers were trying to barricade it against the Uruk-Hai efforts. Fred and George were there as well, trying to magically reinforce the wooden gate. Ginny let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. They were alive. However, their magic wasn’t doing much for the gate. _Saruman must be using his own magic to counteract ours_ , Ginny reasoned. There was a loud slamming noise from the battering ram outside, and Ginny rushed to the gate to fight, Aragorn right behind her. 

 

“Hold them!” King Théoden shouted to them all.

 

“How long do you need?” Aragorn shouted back, making his way out of the mob of soldiers to the King. 

 

“As long as you can give me!” he answered. Aragorn nodded and met Ginny’s eyes, gesturing for her and her brothers to join him outside the fighting. 

 

“What’s the plan?” George asked. 

 

“We need to buy them time to barricade the gate,” Aragorn explained. 

 

“We can apparate on to the causeway, fight them back-” Fred suggested.

 

“No,” Aragorn countered, “Fred, George, you stay here. Repair the gate and defend the King. Gimli and I will get to the causeway and hold them off. Ginny, you and Legolas can help us from above, and be ready to get Gimli and I out of there when we're done,” he said, leaving no room for argument.

 

Ginny scowled at the plan, but she obeyed. She didn't want to leave the two of them to do all the fighting on their own, skilled warriors though they were. She had to admit that it was a good plan, no matter what issues she had with it.Aragorn and Gimli went for a side door and Ginny bounded up the steps that led to the upper wall where she found Legolas. 

 

Looking down from the wall, she saw Aragorn and Gimli on the causeway - how they managed to get there from the side door she had no idea - sending Uruk-Hai off the sides of it. Behind the gate, soldiers were bracing wooden beams against the stone. Ginny was watching the ranger and the dwarf with bated breath, but her attention was diverted by the clang of metal on stone. Her eyes snapped towards the noise and saw a grappling hook on the wall. Along the whole wall, actually. _Dammit,_ she cursed to herself as she drew her wand.

 

“Diffindo!” she cast, severing the rope that held the first hook. As the rope split, the Uruks that had been scrambling up it fell hard to the ground below. Ginny repeated the spell on each hook as it caught the wall, sending as many Uruks to their deaths as she could. She cast a few reductor curses at the ladders that hit the wall as well, but there were too many for her to destroy all of them. 

 

“Reducto!” she cast at one of the hooks she’d missed, but with a little more intensity than she intended, reducing not only the hook but that whole bit of wall and the Uruk atop it into dust. The soldier that had been about to cut down that Uruk stumbled a bit from the momentum, but nodded to her in thanks. 

 

“Gimli! Aragorn!” Théoden's voice reached Ginny’s ears from below. “Get out of there!” the King ordered them. Ginny rushed to a safe spot of wall and leaned over to get a glimpse of Aragorn and Gimli.

 

“Aragorn!” she shouted down to him. He looked up at the sound of her voice, and he met her eyes. She grinned at him and he returned it instinctively. With a crack, Ginny apparated to the causeway. She cast a quick impedimenta charm on the Uruks and a shield charm for good measure before taking hold of both Aragorn and Gimli’s arms and apparating them up to the wall. 

 

“What in Mahal's name was that?” Gimli asked her as soon as their feet found solid stone. Ginny couldn't help but laugh at him. 

 

“Don’t worry about it, Gimli,” Aragorn answered for her. She chanced a look up at his face and though he was grinning at her and her laughter, she could see the veiled discomfort on his face. She pulled herself together and gave him a little smirk. She knew he hated apparition, but he was just going to have to deal with it. It was useful and he knew it. They returned to the fight with swords, axes, and knives drawn, but it wasn’t long before Théoden’s voice rang out once more.

 

“Fall back!” he said. “Fall back!” he called, the order echoing through the fortress. “They have broken through!” the King said, “the castle is breached! Retreat!” he commanded. “Retreat!”

 

The troops were quick to obey, everyone making a mad dash for the keep, or at least most of them were. The elves and some of the more experienced soldiers were more stubborn. 

 

“Hurry!” Aragorn commanded, sounding just as much a king as Théoden. “Inside, get them inside,” he ordered. _That voice is actually kind of hot,_ Ginny absently noted to herself as she continued to fight back the Uruk-Hai that tried to get close to the keep. _Not the time for that, Gin,_ she scolded herself. _Focus._

 

“Into the keep!” sounded another voice, one Ginny didn’t recognize, but the soldiers obeyed, piling into the keep until it was just the Fellowship and a few elves that remained outside. Ginny, Fred, and George wove protection spells and wards around the keep while the remaining fighters stood guard for them. They tried everything they could think of, but with every spell, they felt some sort of magical resistance. _Saruman,_ Ginny thought, _it has to be. He saw our protection spells on the fortress and now he knows what to look for to fight against._ George cast one last Protego Maxima and they rushed inside, Aragorn and Legolas closing the doors behind them all. 

 

Ginny wished that she could sit, that she could just collapse, but there was still work to be done. She and her brothers turned to the gates, repeating their protection spells and wards, but like outside, they felt that same resistance. As they worked, men and boys carried heavy tables and chairs and anything else they could find, leaning them against the closed doors. Fred tried to transfigure the doors into stone, but Saruman’s magic reversed the spell within seconds. They cast Cave Inimicum, Protego Maxima, Salvio Hexia, and plenty of other spells, but they had to keep casting them over and over again. Saruman was too strong. Ginny had just cast yet another protego charm when she sensed a warm presence behind her. 

 

“Will your magic hold?” Aragorn asked from Ginny's shoulder. She shook her head ruefully. 

 

“Saruman must be fighting against it. It’s the only thing that makes sense,” she said bitterly. “I’m sorry,” she said, tearing her eyes from the doors and turning them on Aragorn, her regret clear in her eyes. Time and life or death be damned, Aragorn took her into her arms and hugged her quickly, kissing the crown of her head before releasing her. 

 

“You’ve done what you can,” he said comfortingly, running a thumb over her cheek before releasing her and going to relay that information to the King. Ginny turned back to the doors, but after a look from George to tell her that there was no point, she abandoned their effort and instead crossed the room to Aragorn and the King. 

 

“The fortress is taken,” Ginny caught Théoden saying morosely as she approached, “it is over.”

 

“You said this fortress would never fall while your men defend it!” Aragorn protested. “They still defend it! They have _died_ defending it!” he said before going to help Legolas haul a table to the barricade.

 

A thudding noise came from the doors and Ginny felt a jolt of magic rippling through the keep, weakening the shield. 

 

“Saruman is chipping away at our shield. Even if we keep rebuilding it, it won’t hold much longer,” she informed the King and his second in command - Gamling, if she remembered correctly. The King didn’t even flinch, just turned away from her, silent and sullen. It was all she could do not to burst out in a long string of curses. She took a deep breath and instead addressed Gamling. 

 

“What of the women and children?” she asked. Aragorn came up beside her and his presence helped calm her agitated nerves.

 

“Is there no other way for them to get out of the caves?” he asked Gamling and the King. They did not respond. “Is there no other way?” he repeated, his voice and whole presence exasperated, stressed, and impatient. 

 

“There is one passage,” Gamling answered when Théoden didn’t. “It leads into the mountains, but they will not get far, the Uruk-Hai are too many,” he said. Another thud sounded from the battering ram outside and Ginny felt another ripple of magic. She threw a worried look to George and he shook his head. 

 

“Our shield is almost broken, my lord,” he called to the king. 

 

“Send word for the women and children to make for the mountain pass,” Aragorn ordered Gamling, returning his attention to that pressing issue. “And barricade the entrance!” he added as the man hurried off to carry out the order. 

 

“So much death,” Théoden muttered, catching Ginny and Aragorn’s attentions. “What can men do against such reckless hate?”

 

Aragorn and Ginny exchanged a look, and she had a feeling she knew what was coming.

 

“Ride out with me,” he said. Yep, there it was. “Ride out and meet them,” he said. Théoden looked up from the floor, his resolve renewed. 

 

“For death and glory,” he said. 

 

“For Rohan,” Ginny added, “for your people.”

 

“The sun is rising,” Gimli noted from beside them, and Aragorn turned to see the sunlight streaming through a small, high window, bringing back Gandalf’s words from before they left Edoras. 

 

_Look for my coming at first light on the fifth day. At dawn, look to the east._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


	24. Stubbornness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Once a battle is won, the adrenaline begins to wear off and the physical pain and losses begin to set in, but even the toughest of warriors can be stubborn enough to refuse medical attention if they insist on putting other peoples' injuries before their own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyyy, I'm back with more of this fic. In other news, over on ffn, I fINALLY FINISHED THIS STORY, HOLY SHIT. So, if you're interested in reading ahead and just speeding through this fic, head on over to ffn where you can find this story under the same title and username plus the beginnings of an appendices of outtakes and deleted scenes from this 'verse. 
> 
> I still don't own Harry Potter or Lord of the Rings. If I did, I could afford a car.
> 
> Enjoy!

Nearly every soldier in the hall was in a saddle. The only ones who remained were a select strong few who were bracing the gate. Ginny was seated astride Léobuhr, beside Gamling and just behind Aragorn and King Théoden who were at the head of their column. Somewhere behind her were Legolas, Fred, and George, but at Théoden’s command, Gimli had run up the stairs that led to the horn of Helm Hammerhand. At the gate, there was another thud that rumbled through the hall, rattling the men that were holding it closed. They were the only defense now, the rest of the barricade having been cleared. The Weasleys’ magical shield had long since shattered, and it was now only a matter of time before the Uruk-Hai broke through.

 

“Let this be the hour when we draw swords together,” Theoden said to Aragorn. “Fell deeds awake,” he said as he drew his sword, prompting everyone else to do the same. "Now for wrath,” he said a bit louder, “now for ruin, and a red dawn!” he called out. The King strapped his helmet onto his head and seconds later, Gimli sounded the horn, the noise deep and low, sending vibrations through the stone to Ginny's very core. She could feel the sound, deep in her chest, and it brought a grin to her face.At Théoden’s command, Gamling nodded to the soldiers at the gate and they left their posts, running back along the column to their own horses. There was a beat before the final blow of the battering ram, and the Uruk-Hai finally broke through.

 

“ _Forth Eorlingas!_ ” Théoden shouted, and they charged with deafening war cries and pounding hooves. They bowled through the few Uruks that had gotten inside and broke through their ranks into the sunlight. Swords were flashing in the sun as they cut down Uruk-Hai, sending them falling off the causeway, and Ginny felt more than heard Gimli sound the Horn again as she sent another Uruk careening off the side. The horses trampled fallen Uruks and leapt over the accumulating piles of bodies, taking them back down to the ground outside the Deeping Wall. In the process of the fighting, Ginny and Aragorn had gravitated to each other yet again, looking out for each other as they fought. Ginny dispatched another Uruk and turned to the east to find something else to fight when something caught her eye. 

 

At the crest of the hill was a white figure astride a white horse. The horse reared back and neighed for all to hear, drawing the attention of men, elves, and uruks alike to the white figure. Behind the figure, the sun rose up above the hill - _first light on the fifth day_ , Ginny remarked to herself - and illuminated the valley, making the Uruk-Hai wince and recoil. 

 

“Gandalf!” Ginny said, grinning at the wizard’s arrival. She was so distracted that she nearly let an Uruk slay her horse, but she caught the movement out of the corner of her eye and slit the beast’s neck before it could do any more harm. _Damn it, Gin_ , she berated herself, _you can't get distracted, not yet_ , she scolded herself firmly. She returned her attention to the waning battle, but she allowed herself a few glances back up at where Gandalf stood - though it was no longer just Gandalf, but Gandalf and an entire legion of Rohirrim. The sight renewed her resolve. 

 

“And there’s the cavalry!” Ginny shouted to Aragorn, making him chuckle from beside her, and Ginny could hear the relief and hope in the carefree nature of it - well, as carefree as Aragorn got. The Uruks were ordered to form ranks to face the Rohirrim on the hill, and so they left the other remaining fighters behind, giving them a bit of a respite to watch what Ginny swore was one of the most impressive sights she had ever seen. One of the Rohirrim gave a battle cry, and they charged, Gandalf at the head, brandishing a brilliant light at the tip of his staff as they thundered down into the valley, crashing headlong into the Uruk-Hai. 

 

The rest of the battle felt like it was over in seconds. Ginny and Aragorn fought together to the end, but thanks to the reinforcements, there were nowhere near as many Uruk-Hai to kill. There was still the clanging and clashing of swords, the neighing of horses and thudding of hooves; the metallic tang of blood in the air and the deafening noise of battle, but it flew past Ginny in a blur. Before she even got to make her third kill since the charge, the creatures recognized their defeat, turned tail, and ran. The beasts rushed past their mounts, leaving them behind.

 

“Victory!” Ginny heard Théoden’s voice call out over the din, “We have victory!”

 

As the Uruks retreated, a good number of the Rohirrim reinforcements went to chase them down, but before they could, one of their generals - _Éomer?_ Ginny thought she recognized him from the riddermark, but she couldn’t be sure - galloped out in front of them, cutting them off.

 

“Stay out of the forest!” he ordered, “Keep away from the trees!”

 

“What the hell’s he on about?” Ginny asked Aragorn, her words accompanied with a sidelong glance. He opened his mouth to reply, but before he could, the sight before them answered for him. The trees moved. Ginny was forcibly reminded of the Whomping Willow the way that the trees swayed and groaned, eliciting squeals and screams from the Uruk-Hai that had escaped into their forest.

 

_Holy shit,_ Ginny thought to herself, and her jaw dropped open a little. When she realized, she snapped her mouth shut, but that didn't change the fact that the trees were fucking _moving_. Ginny smirked to herself. Her brothers were going to shit themselves and George was going to regret their little bet. _Guess I'll have to tell them_ , Ginny thought to herself. She just _had_ to see their faces when they found out. 

 

Around her, things were settling down. Soldiers were relaxing, tightly knit ranks were dissolving, and riders were dismounting. A wave of chatter was growing and soon the babble of soldiers talking amongst themselves was nearly as loud as the din from the battle. Ginny dismounted from her horse in the midst of it all, and she immediately went to Aragorn. When she reached him again, the relief and anxiety and exhaustion hit her in full force, and she flung her arms around him, just on instinctual action and reflex more than anything else. He hugged her back fiercely, holding her tight. They were both okay. They each had their fair share of bruises and scrapes, but they were okay. 

 

After a few moments, Ginny finally released him and following her lead, Aragorn let her go as well. 

 

"Shall we?" Ginny prompted, nodding towards the gate. Aragorn nodded. 

 

"We shall," he said simply, and the pair made their way back inside the keep, leading their horses behind them. 

 

“How are you holding up?” Ginny asked him as they walked. 

 

“I am alright, Ginny, I promise,” he said with a little bit of a sigh. 

 

“Bullshit.” 

 

“Really, I am alright. A little tired, admittedly, but alright,” he said. He looked over at her and noted that she had earned herself a wound to her upper arm. “I am more concerned about you, honestly,” he said. “Has anyone looked at your arm yet?” he asked her. She sighed.

 

“It’s fine, it’s just a scratch,” she fibbed. She was fairly certain that it was deep enough to warrant stitches, but she wasn’t about to make Aragorn worry more than he already was. “And don’t change the subject, you have gotten about three hours of rest in the last two days,” she said. He opened his mouth to argue- “and unconsciousness doesn’t count,” Ginny said before he could say anything. 

 

“You may have a point,” he conceded, “but you still have a gash on your arm - do not try to tell me that it is merely a scratch - and I am going to take care of it for you whether you like it or not,” he insisted. Ginny made a show of huffing and grumbling about it, but she wasn’t that upset. She was touched. She was grateful that she had Aragorn there to look out for her and care for her. 

 

Aragorn grinned down at her and nudged her in the side. She retaliated, nudging him back, and he played along, stumbling a bit off course with a smile on his face when she collided with his side. They may have just come out on the other side of a battle, but Aragorn couldn’t be happier. She was there, and she was with him. They chatted for awhile longer as they made their way to the stables, left their horses, and headed for the infirmary, per Aragorn’s request. He was going to fix her arm, damn it, and after he did that, he was going to join forces with the other healers. 

 

He still wouldn’t just _rest_ , no matter what Ginny tried to do to convince him. 

 

They entered the keep and Ginny’s eyes found the twins immediately. 

 

“I’ve gotta talk to Fred and George real quick, you go on to the infirmary, I’ll meet you there,” she said, with no real intention of actually going to see the healers afterwards. Aragorn was determined to keep working himself to death, and fine, Ginny could slip him a sleeping draught later, but he didn’t need to be fussing over her little cut - _well, it really_ was _a gash, but still._ Aragorn and the other healers had more severe injuries to take care of. The look on Aragorn’s face told her that he knew exactly what she was up to, but that he also knew there would be no convincing her. She wasn’t about to put her own pain before anyone else’s. So he didn’t protest for now, only squeezed her shoulder and bid her farewell before going off to the infirmary. Ginny watched him go, but was quick to turn back and head over to her brothers. 

 

“So, did you guys see the trees?” she said by way of a greeting.

 

“Ginny!” Fred shouted jovially, hugging her fiercely and laughing all the while. He only released her when George butted in and insisted that it was his turn to hug their dear sister and Ginny ended up having to fight her way out of her brother’s arms. 

 

“Honestly, it’s like you two haven’t seen me all day, _Merlin!_ ” she said, feigning annoyance. 

 

“What were you saying about trees?” George asked her. 

 

“Oh, yeah,” Ginny said, remembering why she had sought out her brothers in the first place. “Out of nowhere, there was this forest at the end of the valley, and when we drove the Uruk-Hai into the forest, they were, sort of, eaten alive by the trees.” 

 

“So what you’re saying is that we won the battle thanks to some trees?” Fred asked for clarification, a grin starting to grow on his face.

 

“Yeah, moving trees. It looked like a forest of Whomping Willows,” Ginny replied. Fred grinned widely and let out a triumphant whoop.

 

“Ha! There _are_ moving trees here! I win!” Fred said, punching his twin in the shoulder.

 

“Okay, fine, you were right, you win,” George grumbled. 

 

“What were the terms we agreed on again?” Fred asked George, the grin he still wore betraying the fact that he most definitely knew what the terms were, he just wanted to lord it over his brother for as long as he could get away with it. George grumbled something under his breath.

 

“What was that, Georgie? I didn’t catch that,” Fred said, his grin still ever present and making Ginny laugh.

 

“Loser has to pull a prank of the winner’s choice on a member of the fellowship of the winner’s choice,” George said. 

 

“Oh, that’s right!” Fred said. “Ginny, who do you think our dear brother should-”

 

“Oh no, you are not dragging me into this,” Ginny said, putting her foot down.

 

“Oh come on, Gin, don’t be a spoilsport,” Fred said, draping an arm around his sister’s shoulders and bumping her scratch - _gash_ , Aragorn’s voice corrected her in her head - and making her wince a little. She threw his arm off of her and started her retreat, walking backwards towards the smashed gate and temporary freedom.

 

“Nuh-uh, nope. You two can settle this on your own,” she said, turning around and ignoring their protests as she strode from the hall and into the light.

 

Having settled the dispute between her brothers - well, excused herself before they could involve her - Ginny headed for the entrance to the caves. She stood off to the side as women, children, and elderly men poured out of the caves. Ginny watched as their faces fell when they saw the outside. Sure, they’d won, but Helm’s Deep had certainly seen better days. Names were being shouted over the noise of shuffling feet and clattering metal, and Ginny listened as the cries got more and more desperate. 

 

One woman’s voice carried over the others - calling out “Caleth! Caleth!” over and over again. The woman shouted and searched until a soldier approached her and told her something as gently as he could, and the woman burst into tears, falling to her knees. The soldier took her aside and sat with her until she quieted down. She was one of many. Surviving soldiers were breaking bad news and taking people up to the infirmary, while the few incredibly lucky boys who made it through were running into their mothers’ arms. Ginny watched the scene unfold with a detached sense of grief. Here she was, glad that none of her loved ones had died, and there were countless citizens here mourning their fathers, brothers, husbands, and friends. She felt so bad, so _guilty_ that she didn’t feel the same kind of pain that they did. 

 

Ginny was pulled out of her thoughts by a hand on her shoulder. It was Éowyn, with a bittersweet smile on her face. Without pausing to think about her actions, Ginny took the other woman into a hug. The two women comforted each other in silence for awhile before separating. Ginny noticed that Éowyn was trying to discreetly wipe away a few tears and Ginny graciously let her think she hadn’t noticed. 

 

“How is everyone?” the blonde woman asked, hugging herself tightly around her middle.

 

“Everyone’s alright. Aragorn, Legolas, Gimli, my brothers, and I are all okay,” Ginny said comfortingly. “Your uncle got a spear to the shoulder, but he’s alright,” she said, hastily confirming Théoden’s state at Éowyn’s panicked look. “I also got to meet your brother,” she said. Éowyn looked up sharply at that.

 

“Éomer?” she asked quickly. “He came?” Ginny nodded.

 

“Yeah, Gandalf found him and his men and they got here at dawn.”

 

Éowyn’s whole posture deflated as she relaxed. Ginny understood completely. Éowyn must have been worried sick about him for weeks - Ginny had heard about his exile at Wormtongue’s hands - and now her brother was _here_ and more importantly, he was _okay_. “Do you want to go find him?” she asked. Éowyn nodded and told her that yes, she certainly did, and the two women went off to where Ginny had last seen Éomer, when she was passing by the infirmary. When they got there, Éowyn picked her brother out of the crowd in seconds, and left Ginny’s side, weaving through the crowd of soldiers and distressed families, going up to her brother. Ginny watched as Éowyn hugged her brother and Ginny smiled to herself. 

 

She went to leave, but she was stopped. Aragorn grabbed hold of her good arm and pulled her back towards him.

 

“I told you that I would take care of your arm,” he reminded her. She looked up at him with pleading eyes and her best pout, but he held her gaze with determination. And he wouldn’t budge. Ginny sighed. She wasn’t getting out of this.

 

“Fine.”

 

“Come on,” Aragorn said, a little smirk on his lips at her reluctance, “just a few stitches and your arm will be as good as new.”

 

Ginny quirked an eyebrow at him. She knew better, her arm was already getting a little itchy. She had let it fester for too long and she could almost _feel_ it getting more and more irritated. Nevertheless, she let him lead her to a table and sit her down, watching as he prepared his supplies. 

 

“When are you planning on getting some rest?” she asked him as he was pulling clean bandages from a basket. He approached her with a wet rag and started to clean around the wound and the fabric of her ripped shirt.

 

“We may need to cut off that sleeve,” he said, avoiding Ginny’s question. She rolled her eyes and sighed.

 

“Yes, yes, fine, do it,” she said, “but answer my question.”

 

“I will rest once there is nothing left for me to do here,” he said, most infuriatingly in Ginny’s opinion. 

 

"And when is that going to be?" she asked. "Oh, don't worry about the shirt, I can fix it real easy," she said as he tried very carefully to make a neat cut in her sleeve above the wound. 

 

"I do not want loose fibers getting in the way while I work," he explained, and with a sigh, Ginny gestured for him to just get on with it. "And I do not know when I will be done working in here," he answered her earlier question. Ginny sighed again and stared him down. 

 

"The right answer to that question would have been 'as soon as I finish stitching your arm, Ginny,'" she said. She winced as Aragorn applied hot water to her wound to clean it. “I’m letting you take care of my arm, so that means you have to let me make sure you get some sleep," she reasoned. 

 

"Is that so?" Aragorn asked as he inspected her wound for infection. Ginny grit her teeth while he cleaned it out as best as he could, whimpering a little when he picked out a small piece of rubble. 

 

"Yes, it damn well _is_ so, you stubborn arse," she said through the pain. He chuckled a bit under his breath and turned away from her to grab a candle and the curved needle he would need for her stitches. He passed the needle a few times through the flame to sterilize it and threaded it with the silk thread before returning to Ginny's side. She was still glaring at him. He sighed inwardly. _Damn it all._

 

"Fine," he finally conceded. "After I finish stitching up your wound, I will take some rest," he said. Ginny's glare turned into a satisfied and approving smile. 

 

"There, now was that really that hard?" she asked him playfully. Aragorn only quirked an eyebrow at her and set to work, stitching up her arm. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! If you liked it, drop me a kudos or leave a comment!


	25. Epiphanies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some memories can be haunting, but there are times when those memories can lead to world-shattering epiphanies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still don't own Harry Potter or Lord of the Rings. If I did, I would be able to afford actual leather for my Fili cosplay.
> 
> Enjoy!

Once Aragorn was done with her arm, he stalled for as long as he could - maybe Ginny would get tired of waiting for him and go up to her quarters on her own. He stretched out cleaning up his supplies, moseyed through straightening things up, dawdled between putting various things away, until Ginny had had enough.

 

“Oh honestly, you’re worse than a little kid,” she said. Aragorn turned away from the bandages he was folding to look at her with a practiced innocent face. “Really?” she said simply. “You’re gonna try to pull _that_ bullshit on me?” she asked him, but he was persistent. Ginny pushed herself off the table with her good arm. “You know, that may work on Gandalf and Gimli and other people who don’t know you that well, but you know I can see right through you, right?” she approached him as she spoke, and now she was inches away from him, looking up into his damn innocent face with a skeptical arch to her brow. If someone were to walk past the door to Aragorn’s tented healing cubicle and saw the pair at that moment, they would have easily mistaken their conversation for a lover’s quarrel.

 

Ginny held his gaze and finally he broke. His shoulders slumped and he sighed in overdramatic defeat. 

 

“Fine, I shall go get some rest, as long as you do too,” he said, bringing a hand up to her injured arm and running a gentle thumb over the bandage there.

 

“Fine,” Ginny agreed, “I was going to get some rest anyways.”

 

The pair exited the makeshift house of healing and navigated their way through corridors and hallways to their rooms. Ginny offered Aragorn a sleeping draught when they reached his door first, but he declined. He wanted to at least try for a natural sleep before resorting to magical means. Ginny understood and with a quick hug, she left for her own temporary quarters. It was still light out, the battle having ended sometime around seven in the morning by Ginny’s reckoning. When she reached her room, she stripped off her dirty, sweaty, and blood-stained clothes, performed a few quick scourgify spells on herself to substitute for a bath, and changed into clean breeches and a clean tunic. As soon as her head hit the pillow, she was gone.

 

* * *

 

Ginny woke up a few times, the first when a serving girl dropped off some food. Ginny thanked her groggily and as soon as she was gone, devoured the bread and simple stew. Feeling much better than she had been before having satisfied her empty stomach, Ginny crawled back under her covers and fell back asleep for another few hours. 

 

When she woke again, it was dark. Ginny sat up with a yawn and rubbed the sleep from her eyes before getting to her feet - the blanket came with her - and padding over to her shoes. She slipped on her cleaner boots and then went over to the window. Below her windowsill, even in this dim starlight, Ginny could see the destruction that the battle had wrought. the shiver that ran down her spine had nothing to do with the chill in the air. Ginny instead turned her eyes upwards to the stars. 

 

Ginny didn’t think she would ever get over the fact that the stars here were different. When she looked up at the night sky, sometimes she still expected to see the formations she had learned about in Astronomy. She caught herself trying to find the North Star and looking for the patterns she’d learned to chart, but there was no Ursa Major, no Ursa Minor, no Orion, no Sagittarius, no nothing. Ginny had cried the first time she noticed that fact, but now, there were no tears, no wetness pricking at her eyes, none of that. Ginny had accepted that the stars she knew were beyond her reach and had started to accept these new stars as her own. She knew their constellations now, and she could pick out Earendil pretty easily once she shook off the years of astronomy lessons from Professor Sinistra. 

 

Ginny sighed and rested her elbows on the windowsill. She ought to try to go back to sleep, Merlin knew she needed it, but she just wasn’t tired. So instead she remained where she was, eyes turned upwards.

 

* * *

 

_The battle raged on, and Aragorn fought beside Ginny, the pair of them working together almost seamlessly. He slashed and stabbed at the Uruks and parried their attacks with fluid expertise while she did the same. He turned to check on Ginny, just for his peace of mind, and her back was turned to him as she grappled with one of the smarter Uruk-Hai that tried to disarm her. Aragorn went to go back to his own fight, content that she was fine, but then he saw something out of the corner of his eye. An Uruk was coming up behind Ginny, a large battle axe in its hands, and as Aragorn watched it, it hefted the axe up above its shoulder, ready to bring it down upon Ginny’s skull. Aragorn felt incredible fear surge through his veins - fear, protectiveness, and a feral need to protect her._

 

_He turned on his heel as fast as he could without toppling over, and with the loudest battle cry he could muster, he rushed the creature, bringing Anduril back to swing at the Uruk, but seconds before his blade reached the creature’s neck, the axe found Ginny’s head._

 

_Aragorn felt all the air rush out of his lungs, felt his heart stop, felt the whole world around him slow and quiet to a dull roar around him. There was only Ginny- Ginny’s broken body. Aragorn watched as she collapsed to the ground, falling to her knees and then crumpling forward onto the blood-stained dirt._

 

_Aragorn didn’t know how, but he stumbled over to her, collapsing beside her. He felt moisture on his cheeks. It could’ve been blood or sweat, but some small part of him, the only part that was still observant of things other than Ginny’s body, knew that they were tears. He reached her side and gently turned her over to face the night sky. Her eyes were wide and her mouth was open in shock, more expression than most people saw from her in the whole time they had the pleasure of knowing her. With a shaky hand, Aragorn brushed a stray lock of her hair from her face. Her hair wasn’t as vibrant as he knew it to be. It was dull and cold and lifeless. Like her. Aragorn forced himself not to cry openly, but he lifted her body and cradled her in his lap. She was limp._

 

With a gasp, Aragorn woke from his dream - his nightmare, more like - and sat bolt upright in his bed. It was the second time he’d had that dream that night alone. After falling asleep fairly quickly once Ginny left him at his door, he'd had a restful sleep until he was woken up by a serving boy and a tray of food. Aragorn had thanked the boy and after consuming the bread and stew, attempted to go back to sleep, only to have that dream. 

 

After tossing and turning for what felt like hours, he had managed to fall asleep again, thanks only to his fatigue, but there was no possible way that he could sleep again now. Not if that was what he would witness when he closed his eyes. 

 

Aragorn could still feel his heart frantically beating beneath his chest. The beats were rapid, unceasing, never slowing, and he breathed heavily in an attempt to calm his heart, but his head wouldn’t let him. He couldn't forget that image - that feeling - of Ginny’s limp body - her spine drooping over his arm, her head lolling back, her arms and legs bent at awkward and would-be painful angles- Aragorn shook his head sharply in an attempt to clear it, but it did no good. _I need to calm down,_ he told himself. _Ginny is okay. She’s alive and probably asleep_ , he reassured himself as he got out of bed and pulled on his boots. 

 

The dream shook him in ways he had no idea he could be shaken. Even though it wasn’t real, he could remember that feeling of ultimate despair and grief when that creature’s blade ended her life. He could remember the cold - the all-encompasing cold - that he felt in his dream, like he was being frozen from the inside out. He could feel that cold with alarming clarity. _And that was just in a dream,_ he thought to himself. _Imagine if it really happ- no. No, I cannot think like that, and I will not._ Aragorn got to his feet and wandered out of his room. He needed to clear his head. 

 

He hardly realized where his feet had taken him until he got there. 

 

He had wandered all the way to Ginny’s sleeping quarters and honestly, wasn’t very surprised at himself. He needed to check on her, to see with his own eyes that she was okay. He carefully pushed the door open a crack, and saw that she was standing at the window, leaning on the windowsill with a blanket around her shoulders. Seeing her was like a breath of fresh air, and did more to clear his head than anything else possibly could. 

 

She was alive. 

 

That residual cold from his dream began to recede, replaced by a certain warmth. He went to close the door again, to leave her to herself and not disturb her, but before he could, she spoke, prompting him to open the door all the way.

 

“I guess I’m not the only one having trouble sleeping then?” Ginny asked, turning to face Aragorn with a playful grin on her lips. She was surprised he was there - she thought that he’d still be asleep - but it was a pleasant surprise. When she saw him though, she knew immediately that he was less than okay. His mouth was closed but in a slack manner, worry lines were painfully present on his forehead, and he didn’t look like he was really there, like his mind was somewhere else entirely.

 

“Aragorn?” she said as she approached him in the doorway, and as she got closer, she noticed the moisture in his eyes. “What’s wrong?” she asked, her concern so clear in her voice that it brought Aragorn back to reality. When he looked at her - really looked at her, magically clean ginger hair handing loose around her face, concern in her dark brown eyes, and a grey blanket held close around her shoulders - she was almost radiant. 

 

She was alive and well and the next thing Aragorn knew, his arms were around her and he was memorizing the feeling of her body safely held against his own. He held her close and he felt like he was dwarfing her, the way he had almost curled himself around her with his arms encircling her body and his head buried in the crook of her neck. Simply holding her did so much to comfort him and that warmth continued to spread within him, spurred on by the clean smell of her hair and the leathery scent of her shirt. 

 

Ginny was a little surprised by his sudden action, but quick to return his embrace. She got her arms out from between them and held him tightly to her, taking comfort herself from his embrace and the scents of pipeweed and leather that clung to his shirt. _Merlin_ , she loved his smell. _You love_ him _too, dumbass._ She wanted to just ask him what was wrong, _dammit,_ but she knew better. He was in no mood to talk, so she just held him - or let him hold her, Ginny wasn’t exactly sure. After awhile, once he had calmed down a bit (she could tell from how his muscles had begun to relax), Ginny spoke up again.

 

“Hey, it’s okay, whatever it is, you can talk to me about it, you know that, right?” she said softly as she gently ran her fingers through his hair. 

 

Her voice, her comforting and familiar voice, was almost too much and Aragorn knew that if he remained where he was much longer, he would fall apart. Reluctantly, he withdrew himself from Ginny’s arms and went to the window, bracing his hands on the sill. Ginny let him go, trusting that he would open his mouth and talk when he was ready. She retreated to her bed, shucking off the blanket and sitting down at the foot of it, hunched over a little and resting her elbows on her knees. 

 

Ginny watched him at the window and couldn’t help but notice the little things; his shoulders were hunched, his fingers clenched the windowsill, and his whole body was rigid except for the rhythmic, deep breaths he was taking to calm himself. Ginny’s brow creased with her concern.

 

She sat there, patiently waiting, until Aragorn finally spoke up.

 

“In the battle, just before Théoden called the retreat into the keep, there was an Uruk that nearly killed you,” he said. Ginny kept her mouth shut, knowing better than to interrupt him now that he’d finally opened up. “I killed it, but only because I saw it seconds before its blade found your head,” he explained. Slowly, Ginny noticed his hands unclenching and he turned to face the room, crossing his arms over his chest and staring at his feet. 

 

“I dreamt that I had been too late,” he finally said, and Ginny heard herself exhale heavily. “I dreamt that when I turned, the beast had an axe in your skull and there was nothing I could do but catch you as you fell,” he said. Flashes of her own dream from not too long ago, her dream of Aragorn’s fall, flew across her mind’s eye. He had comforted her when she’d had that dream, so she would do the same for him. Ginny stood and crossed the room to stand before him, this stupid man that she was stupid enough to love. She gently took one of his hands and brought it up to her cheek, prompting him to look up at her.

 

“But you weren’t too late,” she said simply. 

 

Aragorn’s other hand came to rest upon her arm and he gently rubbed her cheek with his callused thumb. They stood in silence for awhile before he drew her into another hug. 

 

He wanted so desperately to just _tell_ her how he felt, but he wasn't even completely sure what he would say. Although, there was one thing he knew: he couldn't lose her. He needed her by his side, needed her companionship and her laughter and her smiles, not to mention that he surely would be dead within a week without her looking out for him. He held her tighter and she responded in kind. 

 

That cold feeling that had lingered in Aragorn's veins after his dream was all but banished now. Ginny's presence, the sight of her, the feeling of her in his arms, had made it disappear. If he lost her, he knew now that he wouldn’t be able to handle the crushing grief her death would bring him. Ginny sighed a little in his arms and nestled further into their embrace. 

 

Finally, fucking _finally_ , Aragorn understood. 

 

He _understood._

 

He loved her. 

 

In the ten years since he stumbled across Ginny in Rivendell's armory, he had fallen in love with her. He almost laughed out loud with his revelation. It was like an immense weight had been lifted off his chest. He _loved_ her. It all made perfect sense now - his fierce need to protect her, the way he worried about her, how she could always get him to smile, everything. And now that he really thought about it, he loved her so much it almost scared him. It almost scared him how much he loved to hear her laugh, how much he cherished her smiles, and how she was the one who was always able to comfort him and calm him down. He couldn't believe it had taken him so long to realize.

 

He _loved_ her. 

 

In his arms, Ginny squirmed a bit to get him to loosen his grip, and Aragorn complied. She looked up at him with a smile and it took nearly all of his will power not to just kiss her then and there. 

 

* * *

 

After awhile, Ginny managed to persuade Aragorn to try to go back to bed, with a sleeping draught this time. With one last hug, he left her room, and Ginny herself tried to get a little more rest. That was a recurring thing for her over the next few days. She slept whenever she could in between helping with rebuilding the fortress and preparing the people for the return trip to Edoras. There was much to do, but with the combined magical efforts of herself and her brothers, the outer wall and causeway were good as new within three days. That night, Ginny packed her things. Gandalf had gotten restless and had announced that he was leaving for Isengard in the morning and anyone who wasn’t ready would be going back to Edoras with the caravan of Rohan’s citizens. 

 

Ginny didn’t have anything against traveling with the people of Rohan or with Eowyn who would be leading them back, but she was used to moving fast and they would surely be going at what would feel like a snail’s pace. Not to mention the fact that she dearly wanted to give Saruman a piece of her mind. And possibly a bat-bogey hex for good measure. 

 

So she packed her things and in the morning, she, her brothers, Aragorn, Legolas, Gimli, Gandalf, Éomer, Théoden, and two of his high ranked guards mounted their horses and began their journey to Isengard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! If you liked the chapter, let me know in a comment!


	26. Frustration

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In my opinion, the most frustrating things in the world are slow walkers and sexism, but maybe that's just me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't own Harry Potter or Lord of the Rings. If I did, I would have paid my bills already.

“Did you get it?” Fred asked George under his breath. George nodded imperceptibly. Fred looked over at his twin and tried to keep a straight face, but it wasn’t long before the pair were wearing identical scheming grins. 

 

It was the fifth day after the battle at Helms Deep and the first day of the journey to Isengard. After Ginny had informed the twins of the animate nature of the trees of Fangorn, they had spent the following days scheming and plotting, finally coming up with the plan that they were currently working to execute. George had lost the bet and Fred had tasked him with pulling a prank on Aragorn. However, he hadn’t been able to stop himself from helping his twin. Their plan was too good to let his brother take all the credit. 

 

Once Fred had determined their target, he had spent days figuring out how to mess with him, finally settling on their final plan of action. The object George had retrieved that morning was Aragorn’s pipe. He tucked it safely under his jacket, and that day, Fred and George got to work. 

 

By around three, Aragorn’s pipe had returned to his pack, and all that was left for the twins to do was wait until he smoked it.

 

* * *

 

After a relatively uneventful day of traveling, the company made camp for the night. Some lembas was eaten, two rabbits were roasted, and the company settled down for the night. Ginny leaned back on her elbows from her place by the fire and observed her traveling companions. The men of Rohan - Théoden, Éomer, and two men from their royal guard - were seated close together a little ways away from the fire, talking amongst themselves. Across the fire from them were Legolas and Gimli, who were trading stories of their homes - of Erebor and Mirkwood. Gandalf was sitting alone, smoking his pipe and staring into the flames, and the twins had their heads bent over a piece of parchment and if Ginny knew her brothers at all, that meant trouble of the pranking variety. _Oh, I hope Legolas or Gandalf is the target,_ she thought to herself with a little smirk.

 

Ginny cast her gaze around for Aragorn and found him digging through his pack. Finally he stood up, having found what he was looking for, and came over to sit beside her. He groaned a little as he sat down, making a little wince of pain. 

 

"What's wrong, old man, your knees going bad on you already?" Ginny teased. Aragorn's only response was shaking his head at her and beginning to stuff his pipe. 

 

"Well, you _have_ lasted pretty long without any problems like this. Eighty-seven and only now you're getting knee problems," she continued. 

 

"The only reason my knees are in a little _discomfort_ ," he said defensively as he continued to pack his pipe, "is because of that jump onto the causeway back at Helm's Deep."

 

" _Sure_ that's why," Ginny said in a mock-condescending tone. "If they still hurt now, how bad was it right after the battle?" she asked more seriously. 

 

"Worse," was his only answer. He held out his pipe to Ginny in a familiar unspoken request for her to light it. 

 

She drew her wand and with a quick " _Inflamare_ ," the pipe was lit. The familiar smell filled the air and Ginny took a moment to close her eyes and take it in. Beside her, Aragorn took a drag from the pipe. 

 

"Anyways-" he started to say, but stopped short at the sound of his own voice. It was high- incredibly high, high and squeaky - and had Ginny looking at him with wide eyes. He cleared his throat. "Anyways-" he tried again, and it was still high pitched and Ginny was trying to hold in a guffaw of laughter, he could tell, until finally it burst from her lips. She was laughing hard and had drawn the attention of the rest of their company. 

 

"What's so funny?" Fred asked, his face all too calm for the situation. 

 

"Noth-" Aragorn squeaked, and the rest of the camp was now trying to hold back giggles at the spectacle. "Nothing, Fred, but it seems that something is wrong with my voice," he persisted over the laughter of his companions. "You and George wouldn't happen to know anything about this would you?" he tried and failed to intimidate the red-headed twins. 

 

The pair finally joined the chorus of laughter and Aragorn stood there, arms crossed, and took in the sight. The twins were clutching each others shoulders for support, Théoden was relatively composed, though his nephew and guards were chuckling. Gandalf was grinning and laughing to himself while Legolas's laugh was strangely musical and carried over the others. Gimli was chortling, slapping his knee every once in a while, and Ginny had fallen over from the force of her laughter, though she was starting to calm down. 

 

He met her eyes and nonverbally pleaded with her to reverse whatever her brothers had done and she nodded in agreement. Ginny finally pulled herself together - _shit_ , that was funny - and got up to help her ranger out - _not yours_ , she scolded herself. Regardless, she drew her wand and after a little trial and error, restored the deep, kingly voice she loved so much. 

 

Aragorn wasted no time threatening the twins' lives if they ever pulled something like that on him again. He finally declared that he was going to bed - the pair of them could take the first watch that was supposed to be his - and the rest of the company followed suit, laying down bedrolls and bunching things up into makeshift pillows. 

 

* * *

 

_ The axe fell in less than a second but at the same time, it took an eternity. Aragorn ran with all the strength he had but with every step she seemed to get further away. There were men, elves, and Uruk-hai standing between him and her, and there was nothing he could do. The Uruk's axe clove her skull in two and he could hear the cracking, squelching noise it made.  _

 

_ "Ginny!" he cried out as he fought through the bodies standing in his way. "Ginny!"  _

 

_ "Aragorn," he heard her say his name. It was her voice, he knew it was, but he had finally reached her body. "Aragorn," she said again, and this time he saw her lips move. "Aragorn!" _

 

_ No, it couldn't be. She was gone, she was dead- _

 

"Aragorn!" Ginny whispered harshly, giving his shoulder a sharp shake. He startled awake, reflexively drawing his knife from where it lay sheathed beneath his makeshift pillow. He breathed easy and lowered the blade once he saw who it was that had woken him. _It's only Ginny, it's alright,_ he told himself. She had sprung back when he'd drawn his knife, but now she moved to sit cross-legged beside him.

 

"What's up?" she asked. She doesn't need to know, there's no need to worry her.

 

"Nothing to worry about-" he started to say.

 

"Bullshit," she cut him off in a harsh whisper. "If you don't want to talk about, fine, that's okay," she said sincerely, "but don't you dare try to tell me it was nothing."

 

Aragorn sighed, and he had to stop himself from smiling. _Damn her, knowing exactly what to say. How does she do that?_ He stopped himself before he could get lost in his thoughts and answered her query.

 

"The dream - the one of you perishing in battle - it came to me again," he explained, leaving some details out. She reached over to grab his hand and squeezed it in a reassuring fashion.

 

"Well obviously, I'm alright," she said with a small smile, "and the next time we cross paths with those monsters, they won't know what hit them." Aragorn didn't even try to hide his smile at her words.

 

"What'cha gonna do, d'you think?" she asked him. "Stay up? Get some more sleep?"

 

"Do you have any more of that sleeping potion with you?" he asked, though he hated to do so. He didn't want to have to rely on it, but at the same time he knew he would get no rest if he continued to face that dream whenever he closed his eyes. Ginny nodded and got to her feet to fetch it from her pack. Aragorn found himself hard pressed not to watch her... backside as she went. _Bless her for preferring trousers_ , he had to remark to himself. She was back quickly with the potion and almost as soon as he downed it, he was asleep again, a peacefully dreamless sleep.

 

* * *

 

On the third day of their journey, they were finally nearing the edge of the forest when the sound of cheerful cackling started to reach their ears. Just at the edge of the forest, atop the outer wall of Isengard, were Merry and Pippin. Ginny could tell just from looking at them that they had been drinking and judging from the pipes they held in hand, they’d probably smoked more pipe weed than was healthy for them. But it didn’t matter, they were alive and they were safe.

 

“Welcome! My lords!” Merry greeted them, standing up on the wall and spreading his arms grandly.

 

“And lady!” Pippin added, making Ginny smile and shake her head at them.

 

“And lady,” Merry corrected himself, “to Isengard!” 

 

The hobbits’ cheer was infectious and the company found themselves smiling at their antics in spite of themselves. With the exception of Gimli’s grouchiness.

 

“You young rascals!” he said, but Ginny could hear a smile in his voice. “A merry hunt you’ve led us on and here we find you feasting and- and smoking!” the dwarf said crossly.

 

“We are sitting on a field of victory, enjoying a few well-earned comforts!” Merry argued with slurred words and a wide grin. “The salted pork is particularly good,” he said. Pippin punctuated his point by taking a rather large bite out of said pork and grinning down at them.

 

“Salted pork?” Gimli asked hungrily, his crossness forgotten. 

 

“Hobbits…” Gandalf muttered. Despite the fact that his back was facing her, Ginny could practically see the old wizard rolling his eyes at the pair. 

 

“We’re under orders," Merry told them, "from Treebeard, who’s taken over management of Isengard," he said, much to the confusion of the company. Deciding not to worry about that now, Ginny guided her horse forward to the wall. 

 

"Well come on, then," she said to the two hobbits, extending a hand up to Merry where he sat on the not-all-too high wall. "Let's get a move on," she said. Merry, his mouth too full to speak, nodded and allowed Ginny to help him down. She passed the hobbit over to Fred, who had come up to lend her a hand, and passed Pippin over to George. Once the hobbits were comfortably situated, Gandalf led them all through the broken gate and into shallow water. 

 

"What happened here?" Gimli asked the hobbits, and they launched into an explanation involving Ents, a dam, and drowning orcs. By the time they reached Orthanc, the hobbits' explanation had gone off onto a tangent about the natural rock-throwing skills of hobbits, though their chatter was interrupted by a low groaning, wheezing, and almost sluggish voice. 

 

“Ah," it said, and Ginny finally found the source - the tree - no, _ent_ \- that stood before them. "Young master Gandalf," it greeted the wizard. Ginny bit her lip to hold in her snort of laughter at that statement. "I’m glad you’ve come. Wood and water, stock and stone I can master, but there is a wizard to manage here, locked in his tower.”

 

“Show yourself,” Ginny heard Aragorn say under his breath. 

 

“Be careful," Gandalf said sharply. He must have heard Aragorn's remark, Ginny guessed. "Even in defeat, Saruman is dangerous.”

 

“Then let’s just have his head and be done with it!" Gimli suggested, and Ginny honestly liked that idea. 

 

“No," Gandalf contradicted the dwarf, "we need him alive. We need him to talk.”

 

“You have fought many wars and slain many men, Théoden King, and made peace afterwards." _Speak of the devil..._ Ginny thought to herself as Saruman came into view at the top of his tower. "Can we not take counsel together like we once did my old friend?" he asked Théoden, "Can we not have peace, you and I?”

 

_He's a bloody psychopath!_

 

“We shall have peace.”

 

_I'm sorry, what?_ Ginny's eyes snapped to Théoden in brief panic before she saw the anger in his face.

 

“We shall have peace when you answer for the burning of the westfold and the children that lie dead there!" the king of Rohan shouted back at the wizard. "We shall have peace when the lives of the soldiers whose bodies were hewn even as they lay dead against the hornburg are avenged! When you hang from a gibbet," he said, "for the sport of your own crows, we _shall_ have peace.”

 

Ginny didn't even try to hide the smirk on her face when she saw the enraged look on the rogue wizard's face. _Serves you right, you bastard,_ she thought. 

 

“Gibbets and crows,” Saruman spat back at them, “dotard!" He turned his glare to Gandalf. "And what do you want, Gandalf Greyhame?" he sneered. "Let me guess, the key of Orthanc, or perhaps the keys to Barad-Dur itself, along with crowns of the seven kings and the rods of the five wizards?” he questioned, his voice getting louder and angrier with every word. 

 

“Your treachery has already cost many lives," Gandalf stated,"thousands more are now at risk, but you could save them, Saruman!" he said, almost pleadingly. "You were deep in the enemy’s counsel.” 

 

“So you have come here for information?" Saruman said, and the tone of his voice - the sharp change from enraged to enticed - send unpleasant shivers down Ginny's spine. "I have some for you,” he continued, pulling a dark, glassy orb from within his robes.

 

“Something festers in the heart of Middle Earth," the wizard declared, "something that you have failed ot see. But the great eye has seen it - even now he presses his advantage. His attack will come soon - you’re all going to die," he declared. "But you know this, don't you Gandalf?" he asked of the other Istar, his voice taking on a taunting tone that Ginny found rather unpleasant. "You cannot think that this _ranger_ will ever sit upon the throne of Gondor!" he said. _Okay now, that is uncalled for,_ Ginny thought to herself as she straightened up in her saddle, her face set in a scowl. "This exile, crept from the shadows, will never be crowned king. And these strangers?" he continued towards Ginny and the twins. "Outsiders," he declared, "with this so-called _magic_ that flows in their veins will never find a place here, least of all this foolish girl, playing at living in a world of men."

 

"Oh, that's it," Ginny growled. She went to draw her wand and curse the smug look off of that damned old man's face, but Aragorn stopped her with a hand on her elbow. His pursed lips and slightly widened eyes said quite clearly _I know, I'm pissed too, but now is not the time,_ and Ginny reluctantly returned her wand hand to her reins, glaring up at Saruman with all the ferocity she had in her. 

 

"Gandalf does not hesitate to sacrifice those closest to him - those he professes to _love_ ," Saruman continued, as if he had waited until he had their attention again. "Tell me, what words of comfort did you give the halfling before you sent him to his doom? The path that you have set him on can only lead to death.”

 

“I’ve heard enough," Gimli said what Ginny what she had been thinking for awhile. "Shoot him," he urged Legolas, "stick an arrow in his gob!”

 

The elf reached for an arrow, but was stopped by Gandalf.

 

“No," he said sternly before redirecting his attention to the rogue wizard up on the tower. "Come down, Saruman, and your life will be spared!” he insisted. 

 

“Save your pity and your mercy! I have no use for it!” he shouted back. The wizard slammed his staff down on the stone and from the contact, a ball of fire erupted and sped towards Gandalf. Ginny reached for her wand and noticed her brothers doing the same - if one of them could cast a flame-freezing charm on Gandalf before it- too late. 

 

The fireball engulfed the white wizard and his horse, but it dissipated in seconds, leaving both wizard and mount unharmed. 

 

“Saruman, your staff is broken," Gandalf declared, and on cue, the dark wooden staff shattered in Saruman's hands. He stumbled a bit from the shock, but Ginny's attention was drawn to the figure of another man creeping towards the edge of the tower. She thought he looked a bit familiar, but she couldn't quite place him. 

 

“Grima," Théoden greeted the man - _ah, this fucker,_ Ginny labeled him - "you need not follow him. You were not always as you are now," the king insisted. "You were once a man of Rohan! Come down.”

 

“A man of Rohan?" Saruman scoffed. "What is the house of Rohan but a thatched barn where brigands drink in the reek and their brats roll on the floor with the dogs?” _Oh, I wish I could just kill you, you jackass-_ "The victory at Helm's Deep does not belong to you, Théoden, horse-master! You are a lesser son of greater sires," he finished off. Ginny's scowl deepened. 

 

“Grima, come down," Théoden tried again, "be free of him."

 

“Free?" Saruman almost laughed, "he will never be free!”

 

“No,” Ginny heard someone say, and she was shocked to realize it had been Wormtongue himself. 

 

“Cur!” Saruman spat, whirling around to backhand Wormtongue in the face. 

 

“Saruman!" Gandalf called up to him, redirecting his attention. "You were deep in the enemys council. Tell us what you know,” he requested again. 

 

“You withdraw your guard," he replied, "and I will tell you where your doom will be decided. I will not be held prisoner here!”

 

The next thing Ginny knew, Wormtongue had drawn a knife and stabbed Saruman - multiple times - in the back. An arrow flew past her - a green-fletched arrow - and embedded itself in Wormtongue's heart. The man stumbled back and the wizard tumbled forward, landing with a squelching splat on a bit of rock that stuck out of the floodwaters. 

 

“Send word to all our allies and to every corner of Middle Earth that still stands free," Gandalf said, turning to Théoden. "The enemy moves against us," he said, "we need to know where he will strike.”

 

There was a rustle and a splash and the company's heads turned to see that Saruman's body had rolled into the water, the glassy orb in his robes falling out in the process. 

 

“The filth of Saruman is washing away," the old ent - _Treebeard,_ Ginny reminded herself - said slowly. "Trees will come back to live here - young trees, wild trees-”

 

“Pippin!” George shouted, effectively cutting Treebeard off. The hobbit paid the young wizard no attention as he waded through the water and bent down to pick something up - that something being the glassy orb from Saruman's robes. 

 

“Bless my bark!” Treebeard exclaimed. 

 

“Peregrin Took, I’ll take that, my lad," Gandalf said urgently. "Quickly now,” he said when the hobbit hesitated and as soon as it was in his grasp, Gandalf wrapped the thing in a loose bit of fabric. George helped Pippin back up into the saddle and he and Merry directed the company to Saruman's food stores. They loaded up on food and drink before vacating Isengard and making camp for the night just outside the wall. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, if you liked the chapter, let me know what you liked in a comment!


	27. Camaraderie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ladies being friends is one of my favorite things ever

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm baaaaack! And I still don't own Harry Potter or Lord of the Rings. If I did, I would be a very rich woman.
> 
> Enjoy!

The two days of traveling from Isengard to Edoras were almost as uneventful as the days Ginny spend in Care of Magical Creatures learning how to take proper care of flobberworms. If it wasn't for the hobbits and her brothers trading stories and jokes, she thought she might have gone insane. _It might be better if you just talked to someone about what Saruman said,_ said that annoying little rational voice in the back of Ginny's head. Ginny knew, she _knew_ that Saruman had purposefully been trying to get under her skin, but that didn't make it any better. 

 

_Foolish girl,_ he had called her, _outsider_. She knew damn well that she was an outsider, she didn't need that psychopath to remind her of it. Ginny brought a hand up to her neck and fingered the pendant she had received from Galadriel not so long ago. It felt like an age since she had seen Lothlórien. Ginny traced the contours and textures of the rearing lion - the arch of its back, the texture of its mane. _Gryffindor!_ she remembered the Sorting Hat yelling for all to hear before she had scurried off to sit by her brothers. 

 

_...playing at living in a world of men,_ Saruman's words attacked her once more. Ginny scowled. It wasn't the first time she had been dismissed for being a woman in this world she had landed herself in - on the contrary, she was accustomed to men belittling her because of her gender - but it still stung. 

 

How could they not see her ability? Had she not proven herself? Had she not done everything in her power to show that she was just as good as - better than some - men on the battlefield? Ever since she arrived in Arda, Ginny had fought against the stereotypes placed upon her - that she was weak, simple, or silly. She made herself into someone who was strong, intelligent, and if she said so herself, pretty damn extraordinary. So why did taunts like Saruman's still get to her?

 

Ginny couldn't stand it. She felt like she was going to explode. Sparring with Aragorn the other night had helped her let off some steam - _thank Merlin for that man_ \- but it wasn't enough. By the time the company reached Edoras, Ginny closely resembled a time bomb, just waiting to explode on the next man who set her off. 

 

* * *

 

Thankfully, it seemed that Éowyn recognized Ginny's symptoms and whisked her away from the men of her company the next day as soon as she and the caravan of citizens arrived. 

 

"Do you wish to talk about what has you so angry?" Éowyn asked her simply. Ginny shook her head. "Very well, you can help me with the preparations then."

 

"Preparations?" Ginny asked. 

 

"For the feast." Éowyn answered simply, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. The blonde woman led Ginny to the quarters she had occupied the last time she was there and let her unpack and clean up a little before dragging her outside again. 

 

Éowyn distracted her from her thoughts with mindless chatter about the feast - what kinds of bread they should request of the bakers, what soups and roasts to ask of the cooks, even which standards should be hung in the hall - the traditional green or the deep crimson. It was amazing to Ginny, just watching Éowyn handle everything with practiced authority and grace. Well, except perhaps after the hour they spent tasting various ales and wines. 

 

Ginny had to marvel at the blonde whirlwind of a woman as she trailed behind her on the second day of the feast planning. The event was to be tomorrow, and in two short days, everything was ready. When Ginny remarked on that fact, Éowyn scoffed a little. 

 

"It is my job," she said simply. "As the highest ranking lady of the court, it is my responsibility to organize events like this," she explained. "It used to be that my aunt would do this sort of thing, then when she died, my mother took over. When she could not do it anymore, the Lady Hael, the wife of one of my uncle's advisors, agreed to take on the responsibility until I was old enough to do it myself, and now here we are."

 

"Damn," Ginny couldn't stop herself from saying, making Éowyn grin beside her. "So, you really didn't need my help at all, did you?" Éowyn shook her head. 

 

"Not really, no, but company is always welcomed," she said with a smile. 

 

"You do this all on your own?"

 

The blonde nodded again, and once she selected the sauce for a dish that Ginny couldn't recall the name of, the two women began to mosey their way back towards Éowyn's quarters. 

 

"It seems a bit strange to me, I suppose, that all of this rests on your shoulders," Ginny commented. Éowyn shrugged. 

 

"It is my duty," she said simply. Conversation faded to silence by the time they reached Éowyn's quarters and in the silence, Ginny’s thoughts strayed back to Saruman’s taunts. ' _Playing at living in a world of men?' There is no playing in this world. I know that. This isn't some game of dragons and wizards in the backyard of the Burrow, and I know that. I have never been playing at living in this world. I fight for my life and my lifestyle every damn day. What right does he have to-_ Ginny must have been outwardly showing her displeasure, for Éowyn spoke up as she opened the door to her quarters to welcome Ginny inside.

 

“Perhaps you would like to talk about what is troubling you now?” she said understandingly. Ginny ran a hand through her hair in her frustration. She stood aside and waited for Éowyn to close the door before saying anything.

 

“I can’t fucking stand it,” she started, regretting, in hindsight, her language when she saw Éowyn raise her eyebrows at the curse. “Sorry, I just, I cannot stand the way that _men_ ,” she almost spat the word, “treat me here. I mean, no shit, I’m a woman, but what the hell does that matter?” Éowyn sat back on her mattress, letting Ginny pace and vent. “A few days ago when we were at Isengard, we confronted Saruman. And he was all pissy and shit, taunting us and trying to manipulate us, but you know what he said to me? He called me an _outsider_ , and yeah, okay, I am, but he said that I was ‘a foolish girl playing at living in a world of men.' 

 

“I mean, what the hell? I am just as capable, just as brave, just as strong as any man! I am a fucking _Ranger of the North_ , for Merlin's sake! I am so _sick_ and _tired_ of being treated like I am a lesser human being just because I don't have a dick," Ginny sighed heavily."Fucking misogynists,” she muttered.

 

“Misogynist?” Éowyn asked, unfamiliar with the word.

 

“It means someone who thinks that men are better than women,” Ginny explained. “I learned it from my friend Hermione,” she said with a little smile, despite everything. “Why can’t men just see that they are no better than us? That we are just as good as they are?”

 

“I have asked myself the same question a thousand times over,” Éowyn said in solidarity. Ginny sighed heavily and sat beside the blonde woman.

 

“I knew I liked you for a reason,” Ginny said, giving the her a smile. There were a few beats of silence before Éowyn took up the mantle, ready to express her own grievances. 

 

“I have worked so long for my right to fight,” Éowyn began. “And I have gotten nothing but my brother and uncle telling me time and again that I cannot, simply because I am a woman. What happened to the shieldmaidens of old? It was once our tradition for women to fight alongside the men. I don’t understand why I cannot follow in their footsteps.”

 

"It's bullshit," Ginny agreed. “I mean, I got lucky with Fred and George. My brothers understand that I want to fight, they don’t give a shit that I’m a girl, but Gandalf? Lord Elrond? It took me forever to convince them. You should have seen Elrond's face when I told him I was going to be a Ranger - it was priceless. But telling him flat-out wasn't even enough.It was only after I got Aragorn to teach me behind their backs and snuck out with him on a patrol that they finally accepted it. I was going to be a warrior whether they liked it or not." 

 

“It was Aragorn that taught you to fight?” Éowyn asked.

 

“Yeah,” Ginny replied, "I was sixteen, I was having a nervous, homesick breakdown, crying in the middle of Rivendell's armory, when he found me, got me back on my feet, and handed me a sword,” she said, smiling to herself. She didn’t see the knowing grin that was starting to grow on Éowyn’s face.

 

“He taught me everything I know - how to shoot, how to use a blade, how to survive in the wild. He’s technically my chieftain - those Rangers I joined? They're under his command -” Ginny explained at Éowyn’s confused look, “but he’s my friend too,” she said fondly.

 

“You two are close?”

 

“Yeah,” Ginny affirmed, and she found it hard to care that her tone of voice was more tender than normal. “He’s my closest friend.” At Éowyn’s silence, Ginny looked over at the blonde woman in question. What she saw was a knowing look. _Shit, she knows._ Ginny avoided Éowyn’s knowing gaze for as long as she could, but it got to the point where she just couldn’t keep it all in anymore.

 

"Okay, fine!" she said, throwing her hands up and flopping back on Éowyn's bed. The woman beside her let out a triumphant laugh. "I love him," she admitted. "I fucking love that bastard with everything I've got," Ginny said, more calmly now. It surprised her, but it felt good to get this off of her chest, to finally let someone in on what she was feeling. 

 

"I didn't even realize it until about a week or so ago - I am such a blind idiot - it took him nearly dying for me to figure it out. _Merlin_ , I can be thick sometimes. But I really do - love him, I mean. He's a bit of a stubborn arse, but he's a good man and smart and confident and strong and-" Ginny cut herself off with an exasperated sigh. 

 

"And he's not a poor sight to look at either," Éowyn added.

 

"Don't I know it!" Ginny agreed. "Just- his eyes, fucking _shit_ , and the way he _smells_ \- like leather and earth and pipe smoke and _ugh_ \- it's not fair. And his _hair_ , though. I swear, on the road, that man never washes his hair, but when he cleans up - he cleans up nicely. He always laughs at me whenever I make fun of him for washing his hair. _Fuck_ , I love his laugh," Ginny said, grinning up at the ceiling. 

 

"Sometimes," Ginny said, rolling over to look at Éowyn, "sometimes it _hurts_ , how much I love him. Like, he'll do something and I'll just get this ache in my chest and I just-" she cut herself off with another sigh. 

 

"And then sometimes he gets this stupidly attractive shit-eating grin on his face and all I want to do is kiss him," Ginny continued. Éowyn giggled at that. "What, I do! And that's nothing compared to when he-” Ginny cut off her rambling again when Éowyn's giggles started to get out of control. 

 

"What?" Ginny asked incredulously. "What's so funny about wanting to kiss an attractive man?” 

 

After a few deep breaths, and some more giggling, Éowyn finally composed herself. 

 

"I'm sorry, Ginny, it's just that its funny that that is your reaction to him grinning, of all things," she said. Ginny raised an eyebrow. 

 

"Oh, that's nothing compared to when he uses his King Voice, _Merlin_ , that man makes me want to fuck him until he can’t walk right,” she said, sending Éowyn into another fit of giggles. Ginny shook her head at her, grinning still at the blonde woman. “Maybe it's just been awhile."

 

"Been awhile?"

 

"Yeah, it's been _ages_ since I've really kissed a man, even longer since I've made love to one, not since I was sixteen," she said. "I mean, I've fucked a few fairly attractive bar patrons, but-" 

 

"You mean to say that you've lain with men?" Éowyn asked, to which Ginny replied with a nod. 

 

"Yep, I've been with - four? Five? No, I only thought about him - four men in my life. Two were strangers, two were boyfriends from when I was a teenager."

 

"Boyfriends?"

 

"Yeah, where I'm from, people date - I guess it's kind of like courting? If you like someone romantically, you'll hang out together, go on dates, spend time alone, kiss, some people will have sex, but not everyone does," Ginny explained. Éowyn didn't have anything to say, so Ginny just continued. 

 

"My first was my boyfriend Dean. He was nice, a decent shag too - dark skin that was just gorgeous - but he was a sexist little bugger," she explained, having talked straight over the look Éowyn had gotten when she mentioned Dean's coloration. "He would try to do everything for me, tried to keep me from doing things he didn't think were ladylike, he was under the impression that because I have breasts, I am therefore a weakling incapable of looking out for myself," she said. "Jackass," she muttered under her breath. 

 

"It seems that all men are like that," Éowyn lamented. "They all believe that we cannot be as strong or brave as they are."

 

"Well, I like to think that there are some exceptions," Ginny said. "Back home, there were a fair amount of men who weren't too sexist. And here, Aragorn knows that women can kick ass, thank Merlin, and so do my brothers," she said, watching Éowyn carefully for her reaction - relief and a little smile. 

 

"Oh, I knew it," Ginny said triumphantly. 

 

"Knew what?"

 

"Which one is it?"

 

"Which what?"

 

"Which of my brothers has earned your affections?" Ginny said, grinning. 

 

"I- no, I don't- that's just ridiculous-"

 

"Come on now, Éowyn, no use denying it," Ginny said. The blonde woman sighed. 

 

"Fine," she conceded, "it's your brother, George." Ginny grinned and laughed triumphantly. 

 

"Good, because he definitely likes you, too," Ginny said. She had seen the way he was playful with her, all the flirting going on from his end. 

 

"Do you really think so?" Éowyn asked hopefully. 

 

"Oh, definitely," Ginny confirmed. "But if you want anything to happen from it, you're gonna need to get your shit together and just go get him already," she said. "Ask him to dance, get him to grab you a drink, I don't know, but do something to let him know you're interested - he can be terribly thick sometimes."

 

"Are you sure?" Éowyn asked, and when Ginny looked over at her new friend, it was to see insecurity and doubt written all over her face. The red-headed witch sat up and took one of Éowyn's hands in her own. 

 

"Hey, look at me," she said gently. "Why wouldn't he like you? You're strong, smart, gorgeous, confident, and I'm pretty sure you could kick his ass into the fifth age," Ginny told her with a grin. "Not to mention he's always had a soft spot for blondes," she added, finally making Éowyn grin. "You'll be fine, my friend."

 

"I am glad to have met you, Ginny," Éowyn confided. Ginny smiled and pulled her into a hug. She wasn't sure how, but this woman had snuck her way past her defenses and situated herself in her heart in the same neighborhood as Arwen and Hermione.

 

"Same to you, Éowyn," Ginny honestly agreed. "I'm glad to have you as a friend."

 

* * *

 

The next day, Ginny took advantage of her relative luxury and slept in. The sun was pretty high in the sky when she woke, she guessed it to be around ten-thirty, perhaps eleven. She yawned widely and slowly got out of bed. Sluggishly, she shuffled over to the wardrobe and went to pull out a pair of trousers but when she blearily reached a hand to the bottom of the wardrobe, all she found was the bottom of the wardrobe. 

 

"Oh, are you fucking kidding me?" Ginny muttered under her breath. She sighed and, resigning herself to her fate, pulled a simple, greyish blue dress from where it hung. She changed quickly (she conjured leggings to wear under the dress as well), not bothering to go behind the changing screen. Her stomach growled loudly, signaling that her body was very displeased with her, and so she threw her hair into a plain ponytail and pulled on her boots before making her way to the kitchens for some breakfast - well, more like elevensies, she supposed. 

 

When she reached the kitchens, she found Merry and Pippin there, the pair of them enjoying some cider and bread with butter. 

 

"Hello, Ginny!" Pippin greeted her cheerfully. Ginny opened her mouth to return the greeting, but a yawn came out instead. 

 

"I'm sorry," she said through the yawn. "Good morning, gentlemen. Might I join you for some food?" she asked as she sat down beside Merry. 

 

"Of course!" the hobbit said as if it were the obvious answer. "Here, have a slice of this rye," he said as he handed her the bread. Ginny enjoyed her elevensies with Merry and Pippin. They were cheerful and happy and it was a welcome change from the gloomy atmosphere. They talked of favorite foods and drinks and of memories of home. The hobbits told Ginny about a particular roast that Pippin's grandmother made while Ginny reminisced over her mother's cakes. 

 

Merry and Pippin boasted about the ale and beer brewed at the Green Dragon and Ginny had to agree that that stuff was good, but they had never had firewhiskey. She technically shouldn't have either, but hardly any Gryffindor remained sober after their fourth year. It was nearing noon and lunchtime when the three finally got up and went their separate ways, the hobbits back to the kitchens to scrounge up some lunch, and Ginny back to her quarters. She closed her door behind her and lay down on her mattress for a quick nap. 

 

It felt like mere seconds, but a few hours later, there was a knock on Ginny's door, startling her awake. 

 

"Come in," she called, and the door opened to reveal Éowyn with three lady's maids in tow. 

 

"What are you doing still abed at this hour?" she asked. Ginny took note of one maid closing the door and another holding a bundle of blue fabric before answering. 

 

"I was up, I was just taking a nap," she explained. "What's all this?"

 

"This is only two hours until the feast today and it is time to get you ready," Éowyn countered calmly. 

 

"Wait, really? What time is it?"

 

"It is nearing three, so get up and go bathe," Éowyn ordered, and Ginny obeyed. By the time she was clean and her hair was dry, it was somewhere around three-thirty. 

 

The maid with the bundle of fabric ushered Ginny behind the changing screen and helped her dress. She pulled on her undergarments and slips and then came the dreaded corset. Thankfully, Ginny was able to convince her that the corset needn't be quite _that_ tight, and so saved her ribs and her lungs a great deal of grief. Then, Ginny finally got to see the dress. 

 

She loved the deep blueish green color, and had to give Éowyn props for finding a flattering tone that did not clash with her hair. The maid helped her into the dress and tied up the back for her while Ginny smoothed down the front. When she was declared dressed, she emerged from the changing screen with a little satisfied smirk on her face, in response to which Éowyn smiled approvingly. Ginny went to her large mirror to get a better look, and _damn_. _I look good,_ she had to admit to herself. The colors complimented each other perfectly - her reddish orange hair and the blueish green fabric. Ginny was admiring the way the wide neckline revealed her collarbones, when she was called out of her reverie. 

 

"Come, we need to do your hair," another one of Éowyn's maid's guided Ginny to the seat before her vanity. They made quick work of it, pinning back some of her hair and leaving the rest to flow freely in its natural waves. They applied some kind of oil to her locks that smelled of lavender, and pronounced her ready. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! If you liked it, let me know with kudos or in a comment!


	28. Festivities

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alcohol sure has a way of loosening one's tongue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to chapter 28! I still don't own Harry Potter or Lord of the Rings. If I did, I'd be able to afford my own pottery wheel.
> 
> Enjoy!

"May I escort you to the feast, my lady?" Ginny asked when Éowyn opened the door to her chambers. It was nearly time for the feast to begin and as no one had come to her door as an escort, Ginny figured she would fill that role for Éowyn instead. The blonde woman grinned. 

 

"You certainly may, my lady," she agreed. Ginny offered Éowyn her elbow, and she took it with a laugh. They talked a little about the feast as they approached the Golden Hall, but it was a quick walk. They entered the hall and were immediately met with greetings on all fronts - from noblemen and women, from soldiers and from citizens. They got caught up in the throngs of people, and Ginny was having a hard time locating the few people she actually _wanted_ to be talking to. 

 

They had seen her, though. Well, Aragorn had at least. He was listening while the twins and Gimli talked about _something,_ but he was distracted, his eyes on the corridors, watching for- _Ginny._ It was all he could do to stop his mouth from dropping open at the sight of her. She was a vision. _Eru above..._ She looked ladylike and elegant and, well, breathtaking. His gaze lingered on her exposed collarbone for longer than was appropriate -  _stop, you are better than that!_ he scolded himself - but he managed to keep himself from staring at her chest, so he supposed that was some manner of a victory. 

 

Aragorn shook himself from his daze before he could reach more dangerous territory and returned to the conversation he stood in the middle of. _Relax, it's just Ginny,_ he tried to tell himself. _Just Ginny?_ Just _Ginny?_ an annoyingly honest voice in the back of his head argued. _She stopped being_ just _Ginny years ago, and you know that._

 

Across the room, Ginny finally spotted her brothers and Aragorn. _Bless them for being tall._ Ginny made her excuses to the noblewomen she was currently being cornered by, and wove her way through the crowd until she reached them. 

 

"You two got any of that home-brewed firewhiskey on you? I already need a drink," she said to her brothers by way of greeting. 

 

"I knew there was a reason I liked you, lass," Gimli said with a chuckle. Ginny nodded hello to the dwarf and to Aragorn who stood across from her. She was about to say something when Fred offered her a flask. 

 

"Wait, seriously? You keep firewhiskey on you?" 

 

"Oh, ye of little faith," Fred said dramatically. Ginny shrugged but took a swig, the alcohol burning its way down her throat. 

 

"Thanks, Freddie," she said, screwing the cap back on and passing it back to him. "These noblewomen, I swear-" she started to rant, but she was cut off by a blaring horn. The hall quieted and took that as a cue to find seats. The five of them found places at the front of the hall, just in front of the dais where Théoden, Éomer, and Éowyn sat. Food was served and heartily enjoyed, and before long, the dishes had been cleared until only the tankards remained. 

 

There was the scraping sound of a chair sliding across the floor and the sound of a man clearing his throat. They turned to the front of the hall to see King Théoden standing at his place at the high table. Éowyn too had gotten up from her place at the table and now stepped forward before her uncle, presenting him with a ceremonial chalice. Théoden drank what she offered him and Éowyn returned to her seat to stand beside her uncle. 

 

Taking that as his cue, Aragorn rose from his place beside Ginny and the rest of the hall followed his lead. Soon, they were all on their feet with drinks in hand. 

 

“Tonight we remember those who gave their blood to defend this country," Théoden spoke to the assembled hall. "Hail the victorious dead.”

 

There was a resounding "Hail!" from all the guests that filled the hall. As one, they raised their tankards to the King and drank deeply. Some man's call for more drink broke the solemn tension in the room, and the party got to a roaring start. There were other calls for drink, the band started playing, and the hall began to fill with the sounds of conversation. 

 

"You are looking better," Ginny heard Aragorn say from beside her. She turned to face him and gave him a bit of a quizzical look. 

 

"What do you mean?" she asked. Aragorn gave her a small smile. 

 

"Only that you don't seem to be as on edge as you were on the way back from Isengard," he clarified. Ginny had to agree with him there and confirmed his observation. 

 

"Well I'm not about to turn into a raging feral cat anytime soon," she said with a grin, taking a sip of her drink and moving to sit back down on the bench. 

 

"I honestly am not sure if you mean that literally or not," Aragorn said as he sat down beside her. Ginny snorted with laughter. 

 

"Definitely figuratively, though I did have a professor who could turn into a cat," she said, remembering her first transfiguration lesson when she walked into the classroom to see a cat sitting on McGonagall's desk. Ginny went to shift her position to get more comfortable, only to remember that she was in public and wearing a dress and that sitting with one leg on either side of the bench would be frowned upon. "Damn dress," she muttered, settling for crossing her legs. 

 

"As frustrated as you are by it, you do look beautiful," Aragorn mustered up the courage to comment. Ginny ducked her head to hide her blush and her grin. Once she had composed herself, she masked her reaction to his words by swatting at his shoulder. 

 

"Stop it," she said with a little grin that he returned. "You clean up pretty damn well yourself," she went on, and honestly, he more than cleaned up well. Ginny found that she had to keep reminding herself not to let her eyes wander to the small bit of his chest that was left exposed by the neckline of his shirt. She took another drink to distract herself and out of the corner of her eye, spotted Éowyn approaching George, who had migrated over towards the bar. 

 

"Oh, good," she said to herself as she watched her friend greet her brother. 

 

"What's good?" Aragorn asked from beside her, looking in the same direction as her to try and discern what she was talking about. Ginny leaned in closer. 

 

"Éowyn and I were talking the other day and she told me about her feelings for my brother," she said in a low voice. 

 

"Ah, well then, that explains things."

 

"I know, right? Anyways, I told her about George's thick skull," Ginny said, Aragorn humming in agreement, "and told her that if she wanted anything to come of it that she would need to take matters into her own hands- okay, wow."

 

"What is it?"

 

While Ginny had been explaining things, she had seen Éowyn present George with the same chalice she had offered Théoden. She had said something and then George drank from the cup. By now, he was smiling down at her and had offered her his arm. 

 

"When I told her to do something about it, I'd meant for her to ask him to dance or something, but I guess that works too," she said, still surprised at her friend's actions. 

 

"Stop your musing, what did she do?" Aragorn asked her again. Ginny looked over at him to see curiosity and impatience on his face. She grinned and raised an eyebrow. 

 

"You're as hungry for gossip as the damn noblewomen who cornered me earlier!" she teased, trying not to laugh at the indignation that crossed Aragorn's face. 

 

"Can I not be curious about my good friend?" he asked once he pulled himself together. Ginny chuckled at him. 

 

"Yes, yes, fine, what happened was Éowyn offered him that chalice-"

 

"The one Théoden drank from?" Aragorn asked for clarification. Ginny nodded. 

 

"That's the one, and then George drank from it too and took her off to dance, at least I think that's where they went." 

 

"Oi! Gin, Aragorn!" the pair that had been called looked up to see that it was Fred who had shouted at them from atop a table across the room, no less, getting nearly everyone's attention besides the two he had shouted for. 

 

"Yes, brother dear?" Ginny yelled back at him at the same volume. 

 

"Exploding Snap?" he called back, and Ginny got a wicked smirk on her face. _She really is beautiful when she is scary_ , Aragorn inwardly remarked before shoving those thoughts down and out of his head for the time being. 

 

"Hell yes!" she shouted back. She chose to ignore the noblewomen standing around the edges of the hall who raised their eyebrows and clicked their tongues at her behavior. Ginny got to her feet and grabbed Aragorn by the hand, dragging him along with her. 

 

"Ginny, I am terrible at that game, as I'm sure you remember from the last time you and your brothers tried to teach me," he protested. Ginny turned to give him a long-suffering look. 

 

"Oh come on," she said, before turning back to look where he was going, "it'll be fun, and if you burn off any of your hair, I'll grow it back for you."

 

They reached the table Fred had stood on to summon them and Ginny was quick to take a seat across from her brothers. Aragorn managed to convince them not to make him play and so instead he stood back, watching them. George won the first round, and while Ginny had escaped the flames, Fred had singed off half an eyebrow. Ginny's victory the next round cost George a patch of hair by his right temple. George's second win resulted in Fred losing the entirety of his other eyebrow and Ginny singeing off the ends of a lock of hair that had been tucked behind her left ear. 

 

After their audience had gotten over the magical nature of the game, they'd heartily enjoyed watching the three Weasleys play. There was raucous laughter and loud cheering from them - cheers when one of them avoided the flames and laughter when one was caught up in the blast. _They truly seemed to be enjoying themselves,_ Ginny had to remark to herself. Éowyn was certainly having fun from what Ginny could tell. The blonde woman was seated beside George and he was teaching her how to play as the game wore on. 

 

After Ginny's win, Aragorn had excused himself from the throng, saying something about going to find Gandalf and giving Ginny's shoulder a quick squeeze before he left. After the fourth round they played, (Fred finally won that time) one of the soldiers that had been watching the game, a young man with the typical Rohirric golden hair, was pushed forward by his friends after he said something about learning how to play. Fred and George readily accepted him and Ginny gave him her seat, deciding to go fetch herself another drink. 

 

Leaving the others behind and bidding them a temporary farewell with a grin over her shoulder, she wove her way through throngs of people until she reached the bar. The sight that greeted her there was a bit surprising. 

 

About fifteen Rohirric soldiers had ushered Legolas and Gimli over to the bar and were trying to convince them to play some sort of drinking game. Gimli seemed all for it, but Legolas looked to be a little reluctant and a bit confused. Still on her quest to acquire more ale, Ginny pushed her way to the bar, ending up next to the elf. He still looked reluctant. 

 

"Oh come on," Ginny said, hitting the prince on the arm, "it'll be fun!" she said with a grin. Legolas finally consented in a long-suffering manner and amid all the cheers around her, Ginny caught a fleeting spark of mischief in his eyes. _Oh, that little shit is playing them,_ she realized.

 

_I have seen the way that Mirkwood elves drink,_ Ginny thought to herself, remembering the few weeks she had spent in Thranduil's kingdom after she and Aragorn had captured Gollum and brought him to the Woodland Realm. _There is no way that Thranduil's son is a lightweight._

 

"May the best dwarf win!" Gimli declared, bringing Ginny out of her thoughts. 

 

"We shall see, my friend," Legolas replied, and so the games began. 

 

Ginny watched and laughed as Gimli and Legolas downed drink after drink. While Gimli was steadily getting more and more drunk, singing lines from dwarvish songs in between drinks and waxing poetic about dwarrowdams, Legolas looked hardly even buzzed. Ginny was sorely tempted to spike the elf's next drink with some firewhiskey, if only to see his face when he swallowed it. 

 

"I- I think I feel something," Legolas said all of a sudden, drawing attention. "A slight tingle in my fingers." Ginny and Éomer exchanged surprised and amused looks from across the bar. 

 

"If this was your father's favorite Dorwinion, I think that you might be feeling far more than a slight tingle, _mellon-nin,_ " Ginny remarked. Legolas only shrugged, though his eyes were smiling. 

 

"What'd I ssay-" Gimli slurred from his place, shaking a finger at his elven friend, "he ccan't hold his liquor!" the dwarf proclaimed before promptly falling back off his seat, passed out. Ginny laughed loudly at that, though her voice was lost in those of the other men that had been watching the elf and the dwarf. 

 

"Game over," Legolas said with another shrug, sending Ginny into another fit of giggles. Once she pulled herself together, she convinced Éomer to pour her another drink. 

 

"Thank you, my lord," she said as she got up from her bar stool, "and may it never be said that the men of Rohan can't throw a good party." She gave the horselord a little salute before returning to the throngs of people in search of Aragorn or perhaps her brothers. She found her brothers first in a corner, standing with their arms around each others' shoulders, swaying with whatever song it was that they were singing. When she reached them, Fred pulled her over to his other side and hugged her to him, singing all the while. Ginny took a sip from her tankard and listened to her brothers' singing and recognized the upbeat tune as one by the Weird Sisters. Ginny joined right in with her brothers in their singing and found that she was having the time of her life. 

 

* * *

 

"What does your heart tell you?" Aragorn asked of Gandalf. After a pause, the old wizard answered his question. 

 

"That Frodo is alive," he said, turning to smile at Aragorn. "Yes, he is alive." Aragorn returned the smile and excused himself from the wizard, going instead to look for Ginny, Fred, and George. Not much could be heard over the band's music or the singing hobbits, but Aragorn's ears caught another tune being sung by a pair of lower voices and he made his way towards it. As he got closer, he heard another more feminine voice with them and was not surprised when he came upon the three Weasleys sitting together with arms around each other, singing and swaying. 

 

Aragorn could not help but smile at the sight - at Ginny in particular. She looked happy and carefree, smiling readily and laughing easily. He knew that it was the alcohol that was putting her in this state, but Aragorn could not help but wish that she would smile more often. He had long wished that. He had long since wished to see her smile and hear her laugh and be the one to make it so. He was shaken from his daze when Ginny stumbled a little getting to her feet. 

 

"I'm gonna go get another drink," she said, starting to walk towards the bar. _That is the last thing she needs right now_ , Aragorn thought to himself and he cut her off on her way. 

 

"How about some fresh air instead?" he proposed, hands on her shoulders. "Something to eat, some water, perhaps?" Ginny pouted up at him and _damn_ him he was _so_ tempted to kiss her in that moment, but he kept any such desire from showing on his face and instead forced his eyes only to look into hers. _Which is not all that helpful in this matter,_ he admitted to himself while he tried not to get distracted by the flecks of gold and copper in her brown eyes. He barely noticed at first, but Ginny sighed in defeat. 

 

"Okay, you may be right," she conceded, and Aragorn had to take a second to remember what exactly he was right about. He led the way out to a secluded stone balcony just off of the Hall, Ginny right behind him. 

 

* * *

 

The fresh air did a lot to clear Ginny's head, she had to admit once she got outside. She followed Aragorn to the wall that bordered the small balcony and leaned against it, her back to the world and her drink still in hand. 

 

"Thanks," she said simply, looking over at him where he was resting his forearms on the wall beside her. He smiled and chuckled a little. 

 

"You are more than welcome," he said. "You would have probably ended up passed out on your brother's shoulder had you gone for another drink," he added. 

 

"Hey now," Ginny protested, "I'm not _that_ drunk," she said, turning to face him fully, though still leaning against the wall. "Maybe a little tipsy,but not too bad!"

 

"You've been _singing_ ," Aragorn pointed out to her. 

 

"Oh, fine, a little more than tipsy, but the fresh air is doing me good! I feel fine!" 

 

Aragorn only raised an eyebrow at her. 

 

"Oh, shut up," she said, hitting him in the shoulder. “You're such an arse, why do I love you?" she said, taking another sip of her drink. 

 

Beside her, Aragorn froze at her words and Ginny realized - oh _Merlin_ did she realize - just what she'd said. _Shit_.

 

"I-" Ginny started to say, suddenly feeling very sober and frantically trying to figure out how to talk her way out of this, "I'm sorry, I don't know why I said that, I just-" 

 

"Ginny," Aragorn said gently, turning her and her blushing face towards him. She glanced down at her feet and fiddled with the cuff of her sleeve, avoiding looking at him. _Dammit, Ginny, look at the man, stop being such a child!_ she scolded herself. She took a deep breath before looking up at him. 

 

"Did you mean what you said?" Aragorn asked her, and she was taken aback by the vulnerability, openness, fear, and hope in his voice and on his face. 

 

"I-" she started, planning to write it off as nothing, but one look into his eyes and she couldn't lie to him. She couldn't. No matter how she wanted to, how strong the impulse was to lie to protect herself, she couldn't. Not to him. Damn the consequences. "Yes. I- I love you."

 

Ginny was prepared for almost any reaction she could've gotten from him - awkwardness, anger, disgust, shame - but not for the ear-splitting grin or the joyous laughter as he hugged her close, nearly lifting her off the ground.When he set her down, he brought his hands up to cup her face and caressed her cheek with his callused thumb. 

 

"I love you, too, Ginny," he said, and the truth in his words was as plain as day. _Holy fucking shit!_ Ginny felt her face splitting into a grin of her own and she couldn't contain her happy laughter as she hugged him close. Ginny felt lighter than air, happier than she'd ever felt before. A weight had been lifted off her shoulders, and she felt warmth blossoming in her heart. _He loved her._

 

There was only one thing Ginny wanted to do in that moment, and so she did it. She released him from their embrace only to pull him down to her and kiss him. Aragorn was surprised by her sudden action, but responded quickly, holding her close and kissing her back. A loud roar of laughter sounded from inside, breaking the couple out of their embrace. 

 

"How long before they start looking for us, you think?" Ginny asked him, looking up into his grey eyes. 

 

"Ten more minutes, perhaps? Five, if your brothers notice our absence soon," Aragorn guessed as best as he could when he was distracted so. Ginny smirked back up at him. _By Eru, this woman will be the death of me._

 

"Well, that gives us five minutes," she said, bringing him down to kiss her again. 

 

* * *

 

"They'll be looking for us soon," Ginny breathed against Aragorn's lips from her place with her back against a heavy wooden pillar. 

 

"Let them come," he said, and Ginny let out a breathy laugh before gently pushing him away. 

 

"I'll go back first, yeah?" she said as she tried and failed to collect her thoughts while Aragorn's hands were still on her waist. He rested his forehead against hers and let his eyes fall closed, letting himself fully appreciate the moment. _She loved him! She loved him back!_ honestly, he was still a bit in shock over that fact and kept reminding himself of it. 

 

Ginny herself was in a similar state of mind. _He loves me!_ she rejoiced inwardly, _he actually fucking loves me!_ Ginny was hyper-aware of him and his presence - his hot breath on her lips, his hands on her waist holding her close, the scruff of his beard that had faintly scratched at her face - and then there was another outburst from inside the hall. Ginny sighed, remembering where she was actually supposed to be. Aragorn chuckled at her and kissed her forehead. 

 

"Go on," he said, drawing away from her, a warm smile lighting up his features. Ginny pouted up at him. "They'll start to wonder where we've been," he said, quickly kissing away her pout. She sighed. 

 

"I know, you're right," she said, and she slowly removed herself from his embrace. "I'll go first," she said. 

 

"And I'll follow in a few minutes from the other direction," Aragorn continued her train of thought. Ginny smiled up at him and with a quick peck on the lips, she was gone, back to rejoin the party. Aragorn let out a long exhale after she left and ran his hands through his hair. He had a hard time keeping himself from smiling. She _loved_  him! He was overjoyed. He waited a few minutes like he had promised, taking the time to compose himself, and then returned to the Hall. 

 

Festivities were still in full swing and continued to be so for another hour or so. By that time, many of the guests had excused themselves and not too many were left. Ginny was seated at one of the tables, leaning on Éowyn who sat beside her. Her legs were curled up under her on the bench as she talked with her brothers, Aragorn, the two hobbits, and Éomer. They were one of the only small groups of people left, the others being a few groups of soldiers. Every now and then, Ginny would meet Aragorn's eyes and have to fight back the blush and the smile. She would be okay with the world knowing about the two of them, but not before they had talked it over. And the last thing they needed was for Fred and George to know - they'd be merciless in their teasing and insufferable in their smug knew-it-all-along-ness. 

 

She enjoyed the rest of the feast, singing with the hobbits, talking and drinking with Éowyn, until the remaining few (Ginny, Aragorn, the twins, Éomer, Éowyn, and half a dozen Rohirrim) decided to turn in for the night. 

 

When Ginny went to stand up, however, she stumbled, and would've fallen to the floor had Aragorn not caught her. Neither she nor Aragorn noticed the conspiratorial looks that the twins exchanged behind their backs. Aragorn helped her to her feet and they were the last to leave the hall, the others already having gone ahead to their sleeping chambers. The men were sharing various large rooms, the floors nearly carpeted in bedrolls, but Ginny, being a woman and a war hero, was fortunate enough to have been given a room of her own for the night. 

 

Ginny tried to make it to said room on her own, but after Aragorn had to catch her a third time to keep her from falling face-first onto the floor, he simply swept her up into his arms. He discreetly checked to make sure no one was watching them and then kissed her quickly. _Now that he knows how I feel, he is never going to stop doing that,_  Ginny thought to herself with a smile. _I could live with that._ She rested her head against Aragorn's warm chest and let him carry her to her room. 

 

He shouldered the door open and was about to set Ginny on her feet, but she had fallen asleep in his arms as he walked. He smiled. She looked so peaceful and beautiful, as if she hadn't a care in the world. Careful not to wake her, Aragorn kicked the covers off her bed and gently set her down on the soft mattress. He quietly gathered the covers and brought them up to Ginny's shoulders. 

 

Aragorn glanced at her face and saw that a stray lock of her vibrant red hair had fallen in her eyes. That hair was so bright and full of life. Just like she was. She was extraordinary. He gently brushed that stray lock of red hair out of her face and tucked it behind her ear, letting his fingertips linger awhile on the smooth skin of her cheek. He smiled down at her and he could hardly believe it had taken him so long to realize that he loved her.Was he truly _that_  blind to his own heart? He knew what Ginny would say to that. She'd hit him on the shoulder and then with a smile on her lips, maybe a kiss, now, call him a bloody idiot. He smiled. Eru above, did he love her. He loved this confident, powerful, witty, intelligent, and impulsive woman and he would forever thank the Valar for letting her love him in return. 

 

* * *

 

Somewhere on the other side of the world, Arwen Undomiel departed from Imladris for the last time. Her father watched her go, but it was not long before she and the company she travelled with passed beyond his sight. On the second day of their journey, Arwen’s thoughts strayed to her friends - her family, really. She worried for Ginny, for Aragorn, and for the twins. Were they safe? Where were they now? Were they even alive? What had- She was startled out of her thoughts when an almost ghostly figure of a small child - a little girl with vibrant red hair - ran past her, laughing joyfully. 

 

Arwen’s eyes followed the girl as she ran through the underbrush until she reached the image of a white stone hall with banners hanging on the walls, each emblazoned with a white tree. There was a tall man there, and when he heard the girl’s laughter, he turned around. It was Aragorn. His hair was beginning to grey and there were a few lines on his face, but when he saw the little girl, he smiled so genuinely it made Arwen smile as well. He crouched down and scooped up the child, swinging her around in circles. Her shrieking, happy laughter was joined by the lower, though nonetheless feminine, chuckles of another, and a woman with long red hair joined Aragorn and the little girl. The woman kissed Aragorn on the cheek and as one, the three turned to look directly at Arwen. 

 

It was Ginny. It was Ginny and Aragorn with a girl who could only be their daughter, and Arwen smiled lovingly upon the vision of them. They would be happy. They were going to survive and all would be well. The scene faded before her eyes but she smiled. She needn’t worry for them. With that thought comforting her and filling her heart with relief and content, Arwen Undomiel completed her journey to the Grey Havens where she boarded a ship and sailed into the west. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! If you liked it, let me know w/ kudos or in a comment!


	29. Transmission

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Palantir madness and ginnygorn fluff. That's all this is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey cool kids, we're back with another chapter! 
> 
> I still don't own Harry Potter or Lord of the Rings. If I did, I'd own more than three pairs of jeans that fit.

Aragorn couldn’t sleep. After he carried Ginny to bed and left her to sleep, he had returned to the room he was to share with about fifteen other men. He tried to sleep, he really did, but he tossed and turned for hours - his own happiness, Ginny’s words, and the memory of her lips against his own keeping him awake. 

 

_Shut up, you’re such an arse, why do I love you?_ she'd said. He could hear her voice, clear as day - _I love you_ \- over and over again. He felt the softness of her lips, her hands tangled in and tugging at the hair at the nape of his neck, and those hands moving to grip his collar to bring him closer. He vividly remembered her chest pressed up against him and the way she ground her hips against his own, his trousers getting a little tighter with her every movement.

 

Aragorn lay there, awake and frustrated, until eventually he gave up on sleeping. He simply couldn’t rest, not with his thoughts so occupied as they were. He quietly and carefully rose from his bedroll and left the men’s sleeping quarters, letting his feet wander through the halls of Meduseld. Perhaps he just needed some fresh air, maybe a smoke, anything to clear his head. 

 

_A smoke,_ he decided. _Yes, that would work._

 

Aragorn returned to the sleeping quarters to fetch his pipe and weed and tucked them in his belt as he walked. On his way to the doors, he passed Ginny's chambers. He paused in his tracks. _It couldn’t hurt to check on her_ , he figured, and he slowly opened the door. Ginny was fast asleep, though she had kicked off her quilt in the night. She was curled in on herself, shivering slightly, and across the room, the flame in the fireplace was dying. 

 

Aragorn crossed the room to the fireplace, stoking the flame and adding another log. He then walked over to Ginny’s bedside and drew the quilt back up to her shoulders. She stirred and blearily opened her eyes. 

 

“What time is it?” she asked him groggily.

 

“Not yet dawn,” he assured her, taking her hand and squeezing it gently. “Go back to sleep," he said softly, tucking her hair back behind her ear. Ginny nodded sleepily and closed her eyes, fisting her hands in her quilt and hugging it close. Aragorn leaned down and pressed a kiss to her temple, lingering there longer than he used to. He went to leave her room, let her sleep, but before he could, she grabbed his shirt, pulled him back down to her, and kissed him quickly.

 

“Love you,” she mumbled, smiling up at him warmly, her face completely unguarded in her expression thanks to her tired state. His face lit up with a smile. 

 

“I love you too,” he replied. He kissed her one more time before he left the room, as much as he didn’t want to. He wanted nothing more than to just stay with her there, but he knew he couldn’t. And damn the societal rules that said so.

 

He needed air. He _really_ needed that smoke.

 

* * *

 

Not long after Aragorn left her room, Ginny was awoken again, this time by the shouting of masculine voices. Suddenly awake, she threw off her quilt and snatched her wand from the bedside table, thankful that she was still in her clothes from earlier. She darted out her door and followed the noise to one of the communal sleeping chambers. She wrenched the door open, ignoring the loud banging noise it made when it hit the wall, and ran into the room, only to stop in her tracks.

 

Aragorn was collapsed on the floor. 

 

It was like she was underwater - the noise of Gandalf and the twins’s shouts was muffled and Ginny’s only focus was getting to Aragorn’s side. She skidded on the hardwood floor and came to a stop at his side, quick to rouse him and make sure he was alright. She shook him awake and he opened his eyes, shaking his head as though to clear it. Despite her protests and her suggestions of “don’t sit up you bloody idiot,” he not only sat up, but clambered to his feet with Ginny’s help. If he was going to be an idiot, she might as well make sure he didn't hurt himself in the process. Although, she did make sure that her exasperation was clear on her face. 

 

“Fool of a Took!” Ginny heard Gandalf boom at the hobbit. All eyes turned to Pippin, but the hobbit was unresponsive. Aragorn's grip on Ginny's arm tightened and she felt a bit more of his weight fall on her to support. Gandalf knelt before the hobbit and laid a hand on his arm - Pippin woke with a gasp. 

 

"Look at me," Gandalf ordered the young hobbit sternly. Ginny and Aragorn watched with the rest of the men who had been awoken as Pippin continued to gasp for air. Once he calmed down, he looked up at the white wizard. 

 

"Gandalf, forgive me," he pleaded. 

 

"Look at me," Gandalf repeated himself. "What did you see?"

 

"A tree," Pippin answered after a pause. "There was a white tree in a courtyard of stone." Beside her, Ginny felt Aragorn tense up a bit. "It was dead," Pippin continued, "the city was burning." Aragorn's grip on Ginny's arm was now very tight. 

 

"Minas Tirith," Gandalf identified the city Pippin had described. "Is that what you saw?" Shit, that explains why he's so freaked, Ginny thought, squeezing Aragorn's hand lightly where he had her arm in a vice- like grip. 

 

"I saw-" Pippin started, swallowing before he continued , "I saw him."

 

Fuck.

 

"I could hear his voice in my head!"

 

"What did you tell him," Gandalf demanded to know. "Speak!" Pippin jumped at the volume. 

 

“He asked me my name - I didn't answer," he said, and by the tone of his voice, Ginny guessed that he was pretty close to tears. "He hurt me."

 

Ginny's blood boiled. Now this was personal. She'd already been one hundred percent on board with taking down Sauron, but now she wanted blood. He had hurt her friend and now she wanted to hurt him. 

 

"What did you tell him about Frodo and the Ring?" Gandalf asked the hobbit urgently. Pippin's eyes widened, shocked at the very idea of betraying his cousin like that. 

 

"Nothing," he insisted. Gandalf stared Pippin down for another few moments, but the hobbit never wavered. 

 

"Send for King Théoden," Gandalf ordered the room sharply. For a moment, no one moved. "Now!" the wizard ordered, and a few men went for the door. 

 

"Tell him to go to the throne room, we'll meet in there," Ginny called after them authoritatively. One man nodded at her words and he was the one to run off towards the royal quarters. Gandalf nodded his respectful thanks to her and Ginny returned the gesture. Taking a glance around at the men of the Fellowship, Ginny sighed internally. 

 

“Well, get dressed," she ordered them, "and get to the throne room," she added. Fred and George were suddenly struck by their sister's resemblance to their mother. Ginny herself removed Aragorn's hand from her arm and gave it a squeeze before leaving herself, her blue-green dress trailing behind her. 

 

Ginny was quick to change into a simple dress (there were still no trousers or breeches in her wardrobe) and head for the throne room. Gandalf was already there, as were the twins, Éomer, and Legolas. Fred and George greeted Ginny warmly, as did the elf in his own way. Shortly after Ginny arrived, Merry and Pippin rushed in, followed by Aragorn, who met Ginny's eyes as he entered. She gave him a look to ask him if he was okay and he reassured her with a look of his own - _yes, I'm fine, no need to worry_ \- as he came over to stand next to her. 

 

It wasn't long before Théoden joined them and Gandalf explained what had happened. Which, in turn, helped Ginny understand it because honestly, she'd been clueless about the Palantir and what it could be used for. Gandalf assured them that Pippin had not been lying - he told Sauron nothing - and Ginny noticed said hobbit relaxing with relief. 

 

"We have been strangely fortunate," Gandalf told the king. The man gave the wizard a skeptical look. "Pippin saw in the Palantir a glimpse of the enemy's plan," Gandalf explained. "Sauron moves to strike the city of Minas Tirith. His defeat at Helm's Deep showed our enemy one thing. He knows the heir of Elendil has come forth," Gandalf said, nodding to Aragorn, who Ginny noticed had grown tense again. "Men are not as weak as he supposed," Gandalf continued. "There is courage still, strength enough perhaps to challenge him. Sauron fears this. He will not risk the peoples of Middle Earth uniting under one banner," he said. "He will raze Minas Tirith to the ground before he sees a king return to the throne of men."

 

Ginny could practically see Aragorn's hackles rising underneath his carefully calm façade. Things had changed so much in the last few months. Ginny remembered a conversation she'd had with Aragorn before Amon Hen - he had been so reluctant then to take up the throne. He had wanted nothing to do with it, but now, Ginny could tell that he was growing into the position. The way he bristled at the thought of Minas Tirith burning, the way he stood a little taller when Gandalf addressed him as the heir of Elendil - he wanted to fulfill his responsibility now. He wanted to do right by the people of Gondor, and she could see it. Ginny subtly placed a hand on Aragorn's shoulder and he relaxed a little. 

 

“If the beacons of Gondor are lit, Rohan must be ready for war,” Gandalf went on telling Théoden. There was a moment of silence before he answered. 

 

“Tell me," Théoden addressed the wizard, "why should we ride to the aid of those who did not come to ours? What do we owe Gondor?”

 

“I will go to Minas Tirith," Aragorn interjected. Ginny opened her mouth to volunteer to do the same, but Gandalf spoke before she could.

 

“No."

 

“They must be warned,” Aragorn protested. 

 

“They will be,” Gandalf assured them, approaching Aragorn. "You must come to Minas Tirith by another road. Follow the river, look to the black ships,” he said. "Take the dimholt road and call upon the men of the mountain,” he continued in a whisper, failing to notice the changes in Aragorn’s stance - his clenched jaw and stiffened posture - that betrayed his feelings on the matter. "Understand this,” he said to the assembled group, "things are now in motion that cannot be undone. I ride for Minas Tirith,” the wizard said before training his eyes on Pippin, “and I won’t be going alone.”

 

* * *

 

"If Gondor is attacked, wouldn't it be better for them to have more help?"

 

"Gandalf, just ask anyone who was at Helm's Deep, we know how to put up defenses and use our magic in battle."

 

"For the last time, no!" Gandalf argued with the twins. They had grown sick of sitting still - they wanted to do something, they wanted to do what they could to help the people of Gondor. "The people of Rohan have need of your magic as well."

 

"Then just take one of us!" Fred argued, though he himself wasn't the biggest fan of the suggestion. He didn't want to be separated from his twin like that, but if it would help things in the long run, then so be it. Gandalf sighed heavily and glared at the red-headed twins. They didn't back down. 

 

"Fine," Gandalf agreed gruffly. "Frederick, pack your things. We leave within the hour." The wizard swept off to do who knows what, leaving the twins alone. As soon as Gandalf was gone, George smacked his brother upside the head. 

 

"You absolute dumbass," he chastised him. Fred rubbed at the now sore spot on the back of his head. 

 

"Oh, shut it, you know one of us should go along and no way in hell is Ginny going," Fred argued. 

 

"She seemed ready enough to go when Aragorn volunteered."

 

"She did indeed, Georgie. Keep an eye on those two while I'm gone?"

 

“Of course, Freddie."

 

"Besides, if you were going to Minas Tirith, who would keep the fair Lady Éowyn company?" Fred asked with a grin. George lunged at his brother who jumped out of the way, laughing as he ran off down the hall, George chasing him right behind. 

 

* * *

 

Gandalf and Pippin galloped out of the stables on Shadowfax’s back, Fred right behind them on his own horse that George couldn’t recall the name of. They passed the gate and out into the Gap of Rohan, turning east towards Minas Tirith. Merry dashed past George, running to the nearest guard tower. 

 

“Merry!” George called after the hobbit, following the hobbit up the stairs to the top of the tower. George watched as his brother, his best friend, rode away.

 

“He’s always followed me,” Merry said from beside the red-headed man, “everywhere I went since before we were tweens.” George nodded. He had known that kind of brotherly friendship his whole life. “I would get him into the worst sort of trouble, but I was always there to get him out,” Merry continued, looking up at George. “Now he’s gone, just like Frodo and Sam.” George smiled at him sadly.

 

“Me and Fred have always been the same way. Partners in crime our whole lives,” he said. “We’ve hardly ever been separated,” George admitted. “But he’s going to be alright.”

 

“How can you know that?” Merry asked him.

 

“Because he’s too damn stubborn to die without me,” George answered with a grin, trying to hide his fear for his brother for Merry’s sake. “Not to mention he’s tough. And so’s Pippin,” he added. “Hobbits are pretty damn hardy.”

 

“Fool-hardy, maybe,” Merry scoffed, though he was smiling a little now. “He’s a Took.”

 

* * *

 

They had been waiting for four days. 

 

It was four days ago that Gandalf, Pippin, and Fred had left for Minas Tirith, leaving the rest of the people in Edoras with nothing to do but sit and twiddle their thumbs. Ginny had found ways to pass the time, but it was still an agonizing wait. She had done just about everything she could to keep herself busy, but she still worried. She sparred with Éowyn, dueled with George, and taught Gimli how to play Exploding Snap, but no matter what she did, there was always the underlying anxiety over her brother. It was really only when she and Aragorn found time to spend alone in each other’s company that the anxiety lessened, that Ginny was able to relax a little.

 

“What’s your favorite color?”

 

“My what?” Aragorn answered Ginny’s question from where he sat beside her. Ginny and Aragorn had found a relatively secluded place where they could sit and talk relatively uninterrupted, looking out on the mountains. Aragorn had taken to sitting there for hours, smoking his pipe and watching the beacon that would light if Minas Tirith sent for aid and that was where Ginny had found him that afternoon. She’d told him to budge up and make some space for her to sit and without waiting for an answer, planted herself beside him. She’d let him have his silence for awhile, letting herself get lost in her own thoughts until it had occurred to her that within her whole time of knowing him, she had never asked him that.

 

“Your favorite color, what is it?” she asked again. Aragorn took a drag from his pipe and Ginny watched as he blew out the smoke.

 

“Dark blue, I think,” he answered, turning to smile at her. “And yours?”

 

“Red,” she answered pretty quickly, “but a dark red, not like my hair, red,” she clarified. Aragorn chuckled and leaned over to kiss her on the cheek. 

 

“I’m rather fond of that shade of red,” he said in her ear. Ginny could feel the blush rising in her cheeks. 

 

“Oh shut it,” she said, smiling down at her crossed legs. Aragorn chuckled again and withdrew a little, though he snaked an arm around her waist and gently guided her to lean on his shoulder. 

 

“What was the stupidest thing you ever did when you were a kid?” Ginny spoke the next question that came to mind.

 

“I did quite a few idiotic things when I was a child,” Aragorn answered, content to go along with Ginny’s questions. “Although I think the worst was when I nearly ruined Elladan and Elrohir’s birthday feast when I was eight years old,” he said after he thought about it for a moment. Ginny looked up at him expectantly. “I had caught a squirrel,” he started, “and I was determined to make it my pet,” he said, smiling at Ginny’s laughter. He told her about how the thing had gotten loose in the kitchens and by the end of it, she was doubled over in laughter. “My mother made me stay in my room for two weeks after that with only my studies to keep me company.” Ginny was still laughing beside him and while he loved the sound of her laughter, he knew that he was not the only one to have done some amusing things as a child. “But what about you?” he asked her. “Surely there were things you did as a child that got you into trouble.”

 

“Oh, half of my childhood was spent either confined to my room or cleaning dishes without magic,” she said. “But I think the worst was when my mum took away my toy broomstick and made me help her with laundry for a month.” Aragorn chuckled beside her.

 

“What did you do to earn that?”

 

“Well, I was seven years old and I really wanted to learn how play quidditch,” she started to explain. “I wanted to fly fast, but my toy broomstick was as slow as a snail, so I snuck into the shed and took my brother Charlie’s broom to try it out.”

 

Aragorn had a feeling he already had an idea about how this story would end.

 

“I tried to fly it and in my defense, I was pretty good at slow speeds and low altitudes,” she said. “But I somehow managed to crash the broom through my brother Ron’s window and wake up the ghoul in the attic in the process,” she finished. She smiled at Aragorn’s laughter and found herself laughing with him.

 

They talked about the things they’d seen before they’d met, their favorite foods, and their opinions on the hairless nature of elves among other things, until they lapsed into a comfortable silence. Ginny was comfortable leaning against Aragorn’s side, listening to his heartbeat, until he tensed up. 

 

All of a sudden, Aragorn was on his feet, his pipe lay forgotten on the ground, and he was sprinting to the Golden Hall. Puzzled, Ginny looked around for some sign of what had happened and then she spotted it - the beacon. Shit, she cursed inwardly. She drew her wand and apparated to her quarters in Meduseld. As soon as the squeezing sensation was over with and she was able to take a deep breath, Ginny was running to the great hall. She made it just as the doors were slamming shut in Aragorn’s hurried wake.

 

“The beacons of Minas Tirith! The beacons are lit!” he shouted, coming to a stop before King Théoden. “Gondor calls for aid.” 

 

For a moment, Théoden didn’t say anything. It was one of the most tense and stressful moments in Ginny’s recent memory. Finally, he answered. 

 

“And Rohan will answer,” he said. “Muster the Rohirrim!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! If you liked the chapter, let me know in a comment!


	30. Omission

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Though often born out of good intentions, lies by omission are still lies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I still don't own shit. If I did, I would actually own more shit.

_Knock, knock, knock._

 

_Crash!_

 

Ginny knocked on the door to Éowyn's chambers and behind the door there was a crash and a clatter. 

 

"Just a moment!" she heard Éowyn call from inside. 

 

"Éowyn, it's Ginny, can I come in?"

 

"Oh! Ginny, sorry," and suddenly, the door had opened and Éowyn was ushering Ginny inside. The first thing Ginny saw when she entered the room was a pile of armor on the floor by the foot of the bed. Behind her, Éowyn closed the door. 

 

"What's all this?" Ginny asked, turning to face her friend with a quirked brow. 

 

"Please don't tell anyone," the blonde woman nearly begged. "I'm going with them," she said, standing a little taller once she'd said it. "I'm going with the soldiers and I'm going to fight." With every word, she got a little more confident and sure of herself. "And you're not going to stop me, Ginny." The red-headed woman smiled at her friend. 

 

"I'm not going to stop you," Ginny said, placing a hand on Éowyn's arm. "If I were you, I'd do the same." The blonde woman looked up at her with a little smile, standing taller and with more confidence. Of course Ginny was going to help her, she'd be a hypocrite if she didn't. 

 

"Thank you," Éowyn replied before removing Ginny's hand from her arm and returning to her armor that had crashed to the floor. This had certainly not been what Ginny was expecting when she had gone down to see Éowyn to say goodbye before they left. 

 

"Where did you even get that?" Ginny asked curiously, perching on the bed and watching as Éowyn tried to stuff it all into a sack. 

 

"It was my cousin's," Éowyn answered. "He was always more slender than my brother and his armor fits me pretty well, if a tiny bit loosely." She tried and failed to stuff a gauntlet in the bag and groaned in frustration. 

 

"Give it here," Ginny said, extending her hand for the bag. Éowyn passed it to her and Ginny proceeded to dump its contents all over Éowyn's mattress. Ignoring the blonde's protests, Ginny drew her wand and waved it over the thing. 

 

"What did you do to it?" Éowyn asked. Ginny smirked up at her. 

 

"This," she said, taking her hand and thrusting it into the bag, reaching in as far as she could - all the way up to her shoulder. Éowyn's jaw dropped. 

 

"What did you do to it?" she asked, snatching the bag from Ginny's hands to examine it for herself. 

 

"It's an undetectable extension charm," Ginny told her. "It can hold everything you'll need without stretching or bulging, it won't get heavy, and I can cast a silencing charm on it too so that your armor isn't clanging around inside it," she explained with a grin. 

 

Éowyn promptly snatched up her breastplate from the bed and stuffed it inside the bag, marveling at Ginny's spellwork. The bracers and helm were next, followed by the greaves and cuisses, until all of Éowyn's armor and weaponry was inside the rucksack of a bag. 

 

"This is incredible!" Éowyn exclaimed, shaking the bag a little. There was a loud clanging when she did so. Ginny drew her wand and cast a simple silencing charm on it. The clanging stopped. Éowyn started packing up the rest of her things, bustling around the room and fetching clothing, bandages, and plenty of other things, while Ginny was left still seated on the mattress. After awhile, Ginny decided that she too should really go check and make sure she had everything she would need. The bed creaked a bit when Ginny got to her feet and drew Éowyn's attention. 

 

"Leaving so soon?"

 

"I need to get myself ready to go," Ginny replied. Looking at her friend, Ginny was suddenly struck with a great wave of anxiety and worry. "Éowyn," Ginny started, "you do realize how dangerous this is, right?" she asked her friend. The blonde woman nodded. "I'm serious, Éowyn, are you sure this is what you want?"

 

"I have made my decision, Ginny," she said with determination. "I know the risks, I know the price I might pay, and I am still going to do this." The woman's jaw jutted out a bit and she looked positively fearsome. Ginny nodded. 

 

"I understand," she said with a small smile, taking one of Éowyn's hand in her own and giving it a squeeze. "See you in a bit," Ginny bid her friend farewell, making for her guest chambers. When she got there, she was surprised to see Aragorn sitting outside her door, fiddling with the ring he usually wore on his left index finger. 

 

"Hey, you," Ginny greeted him, and when he looked up at her with a small smile, the anxiety she felt for Éowyn seemed to lessen. 

 

"Hello to you, too," he greeted her in kind, slipping his ring back on his finger and getting to his feet. Ginny walked around him to get to her door and invited him in after her, closing the door behind them. 

 

"What has you worried?" Aragorn asked her gently, taking her hands in his own. _Damn him for reading me like a book_ , Ginny griped inwardly. 

 

_Please don't tell anyone,_ Éowyn had asked. Ginny shrugged in response to Aragorn’s question. 

 

"It's nothing, just anxious is all," she replied. Aragorn raised an eyebrow at her and drew her a bit closer. Ginny took a slow, calming breath before answering.

 

"I'm still worried about Fred," Ginny told him. It _was_ the truth, she _was_ still freaking out over her brother's safety, it just wasn't the whole truth. Aragorn seemed to believe her, though, because he brought his hands up to cup her face and kissed her softly. For a moment, Ginny was lost in him - in the softness of his lips, the roughness of his calluses, and the heat of his body. Just as Ginny was about to take the kiss further, however, Aragorn broke away from it and drew her into his arms. 

 

"He'll be alright," he murmured in her hair. Ginny nodded into his shoulder and held him in silence, letting his scent - leather, earth, and pipe smoke - calm her nerves. 

 

"Thank you," she said, though it was a bit muffled by his shoulder. 

 

"For what?"

 

"For being here," Ginny started, "for knowing what to say,” she continued, and after a beat, "for loving me." Aragorn pressed a kiss to her temple and lingered there for a few moments. 

 

"Of course, _meleth-nin_.” 

 

Ginny couldn't stop the wide grin that grew on her face when he said that. _Meleth-nin, he called me meleth-nin,_ she silently freaked out to herself. 

 

"I love you, too," Ginny said, drawing away from their embrace enough to look up into his grey eyes. They were smiling at her. She stretched up to give him one more quick kiss before leaving his arms to fetch her bag and cloak, immediately missing his warmth. 

 

There wasn’t really much for her to do to get ready to leave. She had already thrown her belongings into her bag, all that remained was for her to fasten her cloak around her shoulders and swing her bag over her shoulder and onto her back. Aragorn reached for her hand to lead her out the door, but Ginny evaded it.

 

“What is the matter?” he asked her.

 

“Can we keep this between ourselves awhile longer?” she asked softly, looking up into his eyes.

 

“Aye, we can if you wish it,” he replied, a bit reluctantly. “But one day soon, might we tell the world?” he asked, leaning so close that Ginny could feel his breath on her lips.

 

“Yes, one day,” she said with a small smile, closing the distance between them with a soft, tender kiss. Aragorn took the opportunity to deepen it, taking her into his arms. Ginny snaked her arms around his neck and tangled her fingers in his hair, tugging at it gently. Aragorn let out a low moan and Ginny smirked against his lips. Determined to get a similar reaction out of her, Aragorn moved his hands to her hips and pulled her flush against him, eliciting a gasp from her.

 

Ginny moved her hands to cup his face and with one more searing kiss, broke away from him, resting her forehead against his.

 

"Shall we go fetch our horses?" she proposed. 

 

“We shall,” Aragorn replied with a quick kiss. Well, it started as a quick kiss, but then it turned into a longer one.

 

“We don’t seem to be moving,” Ginny said with a slightly breathy laugh. 

 

“It seems that we aren’t,” Aragorn said in response. Would that he could just wile away the hours with her like this. “Come on, then,” he said with a sigh, breaking away from her and going for the door, opening it for her. Ginny took a moment to try to pull her hair back into a neat ponytail and exited her room, Aragorn right behind her. She was struggling with the leather cord she was trying and failing to tie around her hair until Aragorn took it from her. He made quick work of it, but Ginny was pretty sure that he brushed his fingers against the back of her neck on purpose. Then he went and kissed her neck. You little fucker, Ginny thought to herself, fighting back pleasant shivers. 

 

“There, all taken care of,” he said lowly in her ear. Ginny subconsciously leaned back into his chest and her eyes were fluttering shut when she came back to the present. She jerked back from him and whirled around to face him.

 

“Okay, no, no more of that,” she tried to say sternly, though her smile gave her away. Aragorn smiled and laughed at her antics.

 

“As you wish,” he said. “May I escort you to the stables?” he asked, holding out his elbow for her. 

 

“You may,” Ginny answered, looping her arm through his and letting him walk her out of Meduseld.

 

It wasn't long before they were saddling their horses and leading them out to join the waiting mass of soldiers. Legolas, Gimli, and George were there already, as was Éowyn, to Aragorn’s surprise. 

 

"You ride with us?" he greeted the blonde woman. 

 

"Just to the encampment," she lied easily. "It's tradition for the women of the court to farewell the men," she said. The men seemed to accept the excuse, though Aragorn looked to be a bit skeptical. He turned to Ginny with a puzzled and thoughtful look, silently asking if she believed Éowyn. _I'm so sorry, meleth-nin_ , Ginny lamented inwardly while she shrugged. 

 

"I'll keep an eye on her," Ginny whispered in Aragorn's ear. The guilt that settled in her gut when he gave her a grateful smile was unbearable. She wasn't sure how long she'd be able to keep this up. And imagine if George found out that she knew, dear Merlin, he'd be pissed. Ginny was jerked out of her thoughts by a blaring horn, signaling for them to mount their horses and make ready to ride out. 

 

"Now is the hour!" Éomer shouted from the head of their column, calling their attention to him. "Riders of Rohan, oaths you have taken! Now, fulfill them all to lord and land!" he yelled with the authority of a king. Éomer gave a shout and lead them out the gate, banners flapping in the wind and hooves thundering against hard ground. 

 

* * *

 

"D'you think they're coming?" Pippin asked softly from his place beside Fred, who was staring out the window towards Rohan and his siblings. Fred turned to look at the hobbit and saw both hope and despair. The wizard forced a little grin and patted him on the shoulder.

 

"Definitely," he answered Pippin's question. "They're probably riding here as we speak," he continued with a manufactured sense of optimism. Pippin looked less than convinced. _Damn it, George, where are you when I need you?_ "No, I'm sure they're on their way, Pippin. You saw how Aragorn wanted to help Gondor," he said, "if we hadn't gotten the beacons lit, he would've gotten Ginny or George to apparate over here and do it themselves. Then, they would have done everything they could to make sure that Rohan rode to our aid. They’re on their way."

 

"But how can you be sure?" Pippin asked him. Fred paused a moment to think and then an idea came to him. 

 

"Here, this is how I can be sure," he said, drawing his wand and conjuring up the memory of George being sorted into Gryffindor right beside him. "Expecto Patronum." The silvery image of a meerkat emerged from Fred's wand and after curiously inspecting Pippin, came back before its master.

 

"What is that?" Pippin asked, getting to his feet and reaching out to touch it. 

 

"It's a patronus," Fred started to explain, "it's basically a manifestation if good memories and happiness and it can protect you-" Fred trailed off as a brilliant idea came to mind. _The Nazgul are similar enough to Dementors, maybe they share the same weaknesses!_

 

"What can they protect you from?"

 

"Oh, sorry, Pippin," Fred apologized when the hobbit called him out of his thoughts. "Where I'm from, there are these monsters that suck the happiness out of the air around them and patronuses protect against them," he explained. "But they can also send messages," he added with a grin. 

 

"Send a message to Ginny and George for me?" Fred asked his patronus. The meerkat bobbed its head in a gesture of consent. "Hey Gin, Georgie..." 

 

* * *

 

“ _Hey Gin, Georgie, it’s me,_ ” the meerkat patronus greeted the two siblings in Fred’s voice. They had known that Fred was alright as soon as they saw the familiar meerkat, but the pair of them still breathed sighs of relief when they heard their brother’s voice. 

 

“ _Just wanted to check in with you two worrywarts, let you know I’m alright, Pippin is, too. Also, wanted to ask, you guys are on your way, right? I know you must be, but Pippin seems a bit worried-_ ”

 

“ _I am not worried!_ ” Pippin’s voice interrupted Fred’s in the patronus’s message.

 

“ _You are, don’t deny it,_ ” Fred’s voice resumed. “ _Anyways, we’re fine, Gandalf’s fine, Boromir’s dad’s a big git, but we met his brother and he’s great. Things are looking a bit gloomy here, but we’ll be alright, better than alright once you lot get here. Get back to us as soon as you can._ ” With that, the silvery meerkat dissipated into the air. 

 

“He’s alright,” George said, a bit faintly. Ginny slung an arm around his shoulders where they sat, camped out for the night after their first day of riding to Dunharrow. 

 

“Yeah,” she said, smiling with relief. “He’s alright.”

 

“Want to fetch Merry for the return message?” George suggested. Ginny nodded and got to her feet, making for the campfire where she’d seen him last with Aragorn and Éowyn. As she approached the fire, she saw that Aragorn was sitting with his back to her, and she couldn’t resist surprising him. She crept up behind him silently and flicked at his ear, alerting him to her presence. He did a good job of hiding the way he jumped at her touch. Ginny stifled a chuckle and instead placed a hand between his shoulder blades, smiling to herself when he leaned into the contact. 

 

“We got word from Fred,” she said in greeting to him, Éowyn, and Merry. The hobbit’s head perked up and before the question could leave his lips, Ginny answered it. “Pippin’s alright,” she said, “so’s Fred. Merry - George and I were going to send a message back, you want to come along? Say hello to Pippin?” The hobbit nodded eagerly and jumped to his feet. “Come on,” she said, waving him over to her. Ginny squeezed Aragorn’s shoulder in a quick farewell and led Merry over to George. 

 

“Hey there, Merry,” George greeted the hobbit with a grin. “You want to send it, or me?” he asked his sister, referring to the patronus. Ginny shrugged.

 

“Doesn’t really matter to me,” she replied. 

 

“Alright then, _Expecto Patronum,_ ” George responded, and a silvery meerkat, identical to his brother’s, materialized before them. 

 

“It’s a patronus, it sends messages,” Ginny explained to Merry before he could ask. 

 

“Take a message to Fred for me?” George requested of the meerkat, and it bobbed its head, yes, and waited attentively for one of them to speak. 

 

“Great to hear your voice, Freddie,” George began. “We’re on our way, one day to Dunharrow, about two days until we should reach Minas Tirith, so long as we’re moving quick.”

 

“But that all depends on how fast you can move your fat arse, Georgie,” Ginny interrupted her brother, making him and Merry laugh. 

 

“How do I-” Merry started, gesturing a the patronus while he searched for the right words.

 

“Just go ahead and talk,” George said, motioning for Merry to come closer, “it’ll take everything we say to them,” he explained. 

 

“Oh, alright then. Hello, Pip! Missin’ you pretty bad, but by the looks of things, we’ll be seeing you soon,” he said, shrugging. 

 

“I guess that’s all we have to say,” Ginny said. “We’ll see you soon, guys.” Ginny and George nodded, agreeing that they didn’t have anything else of importance to tell their brother, and with a wave of George’s wand, the patronus disappeared.

 

* * *

 

Midway through their second day of riding, the company from Edoras reached Dunharrow. The majority of the men set up camp at the base of the mountain, but about forty of them, including the remains of the Fellowship, Éowyn, Éomer, Théoden’s closest generals, and the king himself, took the path up the mountain to a wide overlook. 

 

“My lord!” Ginny heard a man greet the King when they reached the top. 

 

“Grimbold,” the King acknowledged the man, “how many?”

 

“Around five hundred men from the westfold, my lord!” Ginny finally spotted the man who had addressed Théoden, an older man with greying hair, but he still held himself like a warrior. 

 

“We have three hundred more from Fensmark, my king!” another man shouted as they rode past. Tents were littered all over the overlook, organized into neat rows and columns. 

 

“What of the riders from Snowbold?” Théoden asked of the men.

 

“None have come, my lord,” some responded. Ginny could barely see it, but she noticed the King’s face fall the tiniest bit at the news. She and Aragorn exchanged concerned looks. Including the men they brought from Edoras, they numbered barely a thousand. Once they passed through the already erected tents, the column came to a stop, where they dismounted and began to tie up their horses.

 

“The horses are restless,” Legolas observed, “and the men are quiet.” Taking a look around, Ginny saw that the elf was right. The horses seemed nervous and there was a noticeable absence of chatter. 

 

“They grow nervous in the shadow of the mountain,” Éomer explained. Said mountain was massive - it stretched up to the sky, dark and barren, broken only by a split in the cliff face, just wide enough for a horse.

 

“That road there,” Gimli said, nodding to the path Ginny had noticed, “where does that lead?”

 

“It is the road to the Dimholt, the door under the mountain,” Legolas answered. How the hell does he know that? Ginny wondered.

 

“None who venture there ever return,” Éomer said gravely. “That mountain is evil.”

 

Ginny had to agree with him there. Evil and darkness seemed to roll off of the path in waves. A look over at Aragorn told Ginny that though he did feel the same way about the darkness that seemed to surround it, he was also quite curious. He stared down the path and looked to be entranced by it. He stared, unblinking, at the gnarled vines and the hard earth, paying attention to nothing else.

 

“Aragorn,” Ginny called to him. He did not respond. “Aragorn!” she said louder that time, taking a step towards him. He startled out of his hypnotized state and turned to face her, looking shocked at his own actions. Ginny smiled at him gently. 

 

“Come on,” she said, gesturing towards the tents, “let’s find some food.”

 

* * *

 

That night, Ginny found herself sitting with Aragorn, George, Éomer, and a few other men around a fire, exchanging stories and telling jokes. Out of a nearby tent, Merry rushed out, decked out in armor and swinging a hobbit-sized sword. 

 

“To the smithy, go!” Éowyn urged him, pushing him along. Merry grinned at the blonde woman and ran off without a word.

 

“You should not encourage him,” Éomer commented to his sister, and Ginny could feel tension starting to build in the air.

 

“And you should not doubt him,” Éowyn added to her brother’s statement.

 

“I do not doubt his heart, only the reach of his arm,” Éomer countered, sending most of the men laughing, including Aragorn and George. Ginny herself stifled a chuckle at the horse-lord’s comment.

 

“Why should Merry be left behind?” Éowyn asked her brother. “He has as much cause to go to war as you,” she pointed out. “Why can he not fight for those he loves?” It was quite obvious, at least to Ginny, that Éowyn was no longer just talking about the young hobbit.

 

“You know as little of war as that hobbit,” Éomer said, getting up to face his sister head on. “When the fear takes him, and the blood, and the screams, and the horror of battle take hold, do you think he would stand and fight?” He shook his head. “He would flee, and he would be right to do so.” Éowyn cowed a bit at her brother’s words, but stood her ground. “War is the province of men, Éowyn,” he said, and Ginny spoke without thinking.

 

“No, it isn’t.”

 

“I am sorry,” Éomer said, turning to look at her and indirectly challenging her. “What did you say?”

 

“No,” Ginny repeated herself with conviction, “it isn’t. War isn’t the province of men or the province of women, it’s the province of people who want to protect what they love,” Ginny said fiercely, glaring up from her seat at Rohan’s heir. 

 

“It is men who fight wars, daughter of Arthur,” Éomer repeated himself. “Neither you nor any other woman should be on that battlefield when the time comes.”

 

“Do not speak to me as if I were an ignorant child,” Ginny demanded. “It’s not a matter of should or should not, it’s a matter of capability. I am as capable as any man on the battlefield, so is your sister and you know it. If a woman can fight, why shouldn’t she?”

 

The people around them had grown quiet in the face of the verbal sparring match and beside her, Aragorn was having a hard time hiding his proud smile.

 

“Because it is not a woman’s place,” Éomer argued back. “Let the men do the fighting, and let the women stay home where they are safe.”

 

“Bullshit,” Ginny fired back at him. She noticed that Éomer clenched his fist at that and his arm had stiffened. Next to her, Aragorn had stiffened as well, noticing what Éomer had been about to do.

 

“Who’s to say that someone is any safer at home than they are on the battlefield? Especially women.” Ginny got to her feet to look Éomer in the eye, or as close as she could get with him being a good head taller than her. “You cannot tell me where my place is, Éomer, son of Éomund. You do not know me and you do not know what I care about, but one thing I am sure that you know is that I am a fighter. If a woman can fight, she has every right to.”

 

With that, Ginny stormed away, leaving stunned silence in her wake.

 

“Foolish girl,” Éomer said once she had gone out of earshot, “she does not know of what she speaks.”

 

“She’s no fool,” George spoke up, drawing Éomer’s attention. “Don’t forget that we’re in similar places, you and I. Neither of us wants to watch our sisters ride to battle and get themselves hurt or killed. The difference between us is that I know that my sister can handle herself and that she’s old enough to make her own decisions. She can beat me in a fair fight, so if she want’s to go to war, who am I to stop her?”

 

“You’re her brother, she is your responsibility,” Éomer protested. George shrugged.

 

“Yeah, she’s my responsibility, but she’s saved my ass plenty of times because she’s responsible for me, too. Not to mention that the last time I tried to stop her from doing something, she cursed me with her famous bat-bogey hex and that is not something I want to relive.”

 

Éomer scowled a bit at George, but made his leave without another word on the subject.

 

George sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face. He loved his sister, he really did, but sometimes her big mouth ran away from her.

 

“One of us should go talk her down,” George said to Aragorn, and the ranger nodded in agreement.

 

“Might I talk to her?” Éowyn spoke up. George looked over at her.

 

“Yeah, if you want to risk her wrath,” he said with a grin to show that he didn’t mean it as a challenge. Éowyn shifted her weight and put her hands on her hips.

 

“I mean no offense, but I think that, as the only woman here, I am the one least likely to see any of that wrath,” she countered. George’s grin only got wider.

 

“Fair enough,” he said.

 

“She would be in her tent, right?”

 

Aragorn nodded in answer when George looked over at him with uncertainty. Éowyn nodded as well and bid the two men farewell, going off to find the red-headed woman.

 

“It seems like things are going well between you and the White Lady,” Aragorn commented to George offhandedly. The young wizard whipped his head around to stare at his friend.

 

“How do you know about-”

 

“Mellon, I am afraid that it is fairly easy to see what you and Éowyn share,” Aragorn answered. “Ginny and I also saw when she offered you the chalice at the feast.”

 

“Is it really that obvious?” George asked. Aragorn shrugged.

 

“Not too much. Perhaps it is just more obvious to us because we know you so well,” he supposed. George sighed with relief.

 

“Good, because I haven’t even told her how I feel about her yet,” he said.

 

“How do you feel about her?” Aragorn asked out of curiosity.

 

“I’m not completely sure,” George admitted, “but I know that I care about her. I want to be the one to make her smile and laugh and the one she asks to hold her close,” he said. 

 

“I know the feeling,” Aragorn said under his breath. George turned to look at his friend to see him staring intently into the fire.

 

"Two can play at this game, Aragorn," George said, "I know how you feel about Ginny," he said. Aragorn stiffened up at that. _Does he know? Does he suspect anything? Ginny wanted to keep things hidden for the time being, if he had any idea-_  "And I think she likes you too, for what it's worth," George continued. Aragon had to bite back a relieved sigh and a grin. Oh, if you only knew, mellon-nin. Aragorn collected himself and put on an expression of hope. 

 

“Do you truly think so?” he asked. George gave him a pitying look. 

 

“Merlin, how blind are you, mate?” he asked. “Whatever, it doesn’t matter. I’m glad, actually,” he continued. Aragorn’s puzzlement at George’s comment was genuine. “She could have a thing for any old tosser, but she likes you.” Aragorn smiled to himself. Yes, she does. “But once you grow some balls and actually do something about it, you should know that if you hurt her, there is no limit to what Fred and I will do to your sorry ass, King of Gondor or not,” George said with a smirk. “After Ginny’s through with you, that is.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


	31. Affirmation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone has days where they need reassurance - affirmation. Affirmation that what they're doing is good, that they're good people at all, that they've made correct choices, you name it. Ginnygorn is no exception.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey hey, welcome to the next chapter of Reinforcements. I'm gonna try to get the rest of this story posted before June 11th because that is when I go away for the summer to work as a camp counselor, a place with no time for me to post things let alone to write.
> 
> As has been the case my entire life, I do not own Harry Potter or Lord of the Rings. If I did, rent payments would not be as big of a concern for me as they are.
> 
> Enjoy!

“Ginny? Are you in there?” Éowyn’s voice came from outside Ginny’s tent.

 

“What is it?” Ginny called back.

 

“Can I come in?”

 

Ginny sighed and ran an exasperated hand through her hair. 

 

“Yeah, sure,” she said, and Éowyn let herself in. Ginny heaved herself up to a sitting position and gestured for Éowyn to take a seat herself on the end of Ginny’s makeshift transfigured cot. “So, did Aragorn and George send you over to talk some sense into me?” she asked bitterly.

 

“I actually offered to come talk to you myself,” Éowyn contradicted her. “I thought that you might bite the head off of any man who tried to speak to you,” she said with a little smirk. Ginny scoffed a bit at that.

 

“You know me pretty well, for only knowing me for a few weeks.”

 

“We are very much alike, Ginny,” Éowyn said, “and I know myself.” Ginny bit out a bitter laugh under her breath. “Thank you for what you said,” Éowyn said sincerely.

 

“It was no big deal,” Ginny tried to brush it off.

 

“No, it wasn’t,” Éowyn disagreed. “You may not have changed my brother’s mind, but you stood up for me and for yourself and that was brave and admirable,” she said, placing a hand over one of Ginny’s. Ginny looked up at her friend with an uncertain smile.

 

“Do you really think so?”

 

“Yes, you fool, of course I think so,” Éowyn said with a grin. She was surprised when Ginny threw her arms around her in a hug.

 

“Thank you,” Ginny said sincerely. She took a moment to collect herself and withdrew from her friend. “You should get some rest,” she said, “we have an early start tomorrow.”

 

“As long as you rest as well,” Éowyn said, getting to her feet. Ginny nodded.

 

“Of course," she said, though she had no intention of going straight to sleep. "See you in the morning,” she bid her friend farewell and sat back on her cot, waiting until she was a safe distance away. Once she was sure that Éowyn wouldn’t catch her out of her tent, Ginny got to her feet and slipped outside, making for the fire where she had last seen Aragorn and her brother. 

 

They had barely moved. Aragorn was right where she’d left him and George was a little ways away. They were the only two left around the fire, the other men having already left to turn in for the night. Without a word, Ginny plopped herself down beside Aragorn and leaned her head on his shoulder.

 

“Hello to you too,” Aragorn greeted her bemusedly. Ginny made a noncommittal noise and a half shrug, staring into the dying flames. Over her head, George gave Aragorn a knowing look that couldn’t be interpreted as saying anything but _See, what’d I tell you, mate? She likes you._ In response, Aragorn shot the ginger haired man a look of his own, silently demanding that he kindly shut the fuck up. George rolled his eyes at him but dropped the subject of their silent conversation. 

 

“I see you’re not biting off any heads, Gin,” George commented to his sister, drawing her attention away from the fire. She sat up straight and ran a hand through her hair.

 

“No, I suppose not. Éowyn came to talk to me, though I think you two knew that,” she said. Aragorn shrugged beside her. “We talked for awhile, I calmed down a bit. I’m still mad at Éomer, but the rage has died down.”

 

“It was brave, confronting him,” Aragorn said, looking over at her with a soft smile. “You were amazing.” Ginny smiled back at him. “And do not listen to what he said about where you belong,” Aragorn added. “You are as good as, if not better than, a good number of rangers, and on a good day, you can beat me into the ground,” he said with a smirk. “You have every right to fight in this war."

 

_**Fuck** , I love him, _Ginny remarked inwardly. It was _so_ hard for her to fight back the impulse to kiss him right then. 

 

The three of them talked idly for awhile longer until George started yawning. 

 

“Getting tired, old man?” Ginny teased him. He nodded through another yawn.

 

“Yeah, a bit. I think I’m going to go to bed,” he answered, getting to his feet and stretching his back. “Goodnight,” he said, waving to the pair and making his exit to the tent he was sharing with Gimli.

 

Now relatively alone, Ginny’s head returned to Aragorn’s shoulder and the couple sat in comfortable silence. Ginny stared into the fire, watching the flickering flames and the flying ashes while Aragorn moved his arm to wrap it around her shoulders, gently holding her to him. Ginny sighed contentedly and let her eyes drift shut. This was bliss. _Now if only we were in bed and were noticeably less clothed, that would be even better,_ she thought to herself. _Damn_ , she wanted to kiss him. It felt like it had been forever since she’d felt his lips against her own. (It had only been two days, but it felt like an eternity)

 

She needed to kiss him and she needed to kiss him yesterday.

 

“I’m going to get some rest too,” Ginny said, sitting upright and moving to get up. “ _Stop by my tent before you turn in for the night,”_ she whispered in Aragorn’s ear in quiet elvish, fighting the urge to kiss him on the cheek. Aragorn quirked an eyebrow at her and she only smirked back at him. As Ginny got up and left for her tent, she could feel Aragorn’s eyes following her until she was out of his line of sight. She sat on her makeshift cot when she got there and waited impatiently until, twenty minutes later, she heard footsteps outside.

 

“Ginny?” Aragorn whispered from outside.

 

“Come in,” she replied, and as soon as the tent flap closed beside him, Ginny was on her feet and in two strides, stood before him. 

 

Before Aragorn could say a word, Ginny’s lips were on his and her hands were pulling him down to her. _Oh, he had missed her embrace,_ Aragorn remarked to himself. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her flush against him, chest against chest and hips against hips. Ginny let out a gasp and tugged on the hair at the base of his neck.

 

“Valar, I love you,” Aragorn breathed when they came up for air.

 

“I love you, too,” Ginny replied with a smile. She fumbled for her wand in her pocket and once she managed to get a grip on the piece of wood, she cast a quick muffliato charm on the tent. “Now shut up,” she demanded, and then she was kissing him again - hungry and desperate. 

 

* * *

 

"What's wrong, _meleth-nin?_ " Ginny asked softly. The pair had ended up on Ginny's makeshift cot (very recently enlarged to fit the both of them) and were now laying comfortably in each other's arms. Aragorn was resting his head on a few of Ginny's conjured pillows while Ginny rested hers on his chest, one arm around his middle. Aragorn held her close and for awhile, the couple remained in comfortable silence, but that silence turned anxious and preoccupied, leading to Ginny's question. 

 

He sighed in response and Ginny shifted her position so she could get a good look at his face while he spoke. 

 

"In Edoras, before Gandalf left for Minas Tirith, he told me something."

 

Ginny's silence prompted him to go on. 

 

"He told me that I must call upon the Men of the Mountain," he recalled. At Ginny's confused expression, he explained himself. "They were a nation of men, long ago, who swore an oath to Isildur, to serve him and fight for him, but when he called upon them for aid, they fled. They broke their pledge and so Isildur cursed them to live on in their mountain hall, to never know the peace of death, until they fulfilled their oath to Gondor." As he spoke, his voice took on a bitter quality - it was very clear to Ginny that he did not want to have to turn to these people for aid if he could help it. 

 

"I do not want to call upon them," he confided in her. "And if I did, they would not come to our aid. They would not follow anyone, myself least of all. They're murderers, traitors," he said with disgust, "they believe in nothing. They will answer to no one."

 

"They'll answer to the King of Gondor," Ginny said softly. There was no response from Aragorn, so she went on.

 

"I'm hearing that you don't like this idea," she began. "You think that they're a bunch of traitorous fuckasses that deserve their punishment." Aragorn nodded with a little grin. _There we go,_ Ginny inwardly commended herself for making him smile. "I agree with you, they sound like dicks, but strategically, aren't they our best option?" she asked carefully. "We _need_ more men, Aragorn. 

 

"You know Rohan's numbers. Six thousand men is a lot, but it's not enough to save Minas Tirith. We _need_ the men of the mountain and so the men of the mountain are what we'll go and get."

 

"That's well and good, but you're forgetting their dishonor, they will follow no one, answer to no one."

 

"And _you're_ forgetting that you're the goddamn King of Gondor!" Ginny insisted. "You're a natural leader, you're wise and smart and caring, you were _born_ to be a king," she said, and Aragorn clearly saw the love in her eyes as she spoke. "I see it in you every day," she said softly, brushing her fingers along his jawbone. "You give people hope."

 

"And I keep none for myself," he added. Ginny kissed him softly. 

 

"Then let me share mine," she told him. They shared another gentle kiss and Ginny reached a hand up to carefully tuck a stray lock of dark hair behind his ear. 

 

"Relax," she said gently. Aragorn released a bit of the tension in his muscles, but Ginny could tell that he was still a bit stressed. "Let's get some rest, and then in the morning we'll deal with the Dimholt." 

 

Aragorn nodded and gave her another quick kiss. Ginny could tell that he was still uncertain and a bit anxious, but he was better than before, at least. 

 

"Goodnight," Ginny murmured, shifting back to rest her head on his chest. 

 

"Goodnight," Aragorn returned, carefully entwining his arms around her. 

 

"Love you," Ginny added sleepily. Aragorn smiled down at her and kissed the crown of her head. 

 

"I love you too," he said, and he watched as Ginny drifted off to sleep in his embrace. 

 

In the silence, Aragorn's thoughts returned to the Men of the Mountain. He knew he had to take the Dimholt road and he knew it would be dangerous. He knew he very well might not survive it and that anyone who joined him would suffer the same end. _She cannot come along,_ he thought to himself. 

 

He would do anything to save the woman in his arms from that fate. She couldn't come with him. He was not going to sentence her to death. _She has a better chance of survival against orcs than ghosts._ He would have to leave tonight, then. If she knew he was going, she would argue against it, and if she argued with him over this, he knew what the outcome would be. She would win, follow him, and die right beside him. That damned nightmare about Helm's Deep flashed through Aragorn's brain again. _No. That cannot be allowed to come to pass._

 

Aragorn looked down at Ginny's peaceful, sleeping face, letting his eyes trace the curve of her lips, the line of her jaw, and every freckle that graced the bridge of her nose. She looked so calm and untroubled. By the _valar_ did he love her. And that was why she couldn’t join him. He loved her too much to risk her life like that. 

 

_A few more hours,_ he told himself. _In a few hours, get up, get Brego, and leave._ He could do that. If he left in the dead of night, she would never be the wiser. The thought of lying to her pained him, but if it kept her safe, then so be it. 

 

* * *

 

"Ginny!"

 

Said witch sat bolt upright in her makeshift bed, brandishing a knife in her right hand. Her eyes darted around her tent for the source of the voice and found Legolas standing at the entrance. She relaxed and lowered her blade. 

 

"What in Merlin's name is wrong with you?" she hissed at him. 

 

"Get dressed and pack your things," he ordered quickly, "Aragorn means to take the road to the Dimholt alone.” Ginny narrowed her eyes at him and subtly took a moment to take in her surroundings. Aragorn was gone. _Oh, I am going to kick his sorry ass._

 

"Not if _I_ have anything to say about it," she said, getting out of bed and beginning to throw things into her bag. Legolas nodded at her and left to, presumably, go wake the others. It wasn't long before Ginny was tying her bootlaces and striding out of her tent, headed for the mouth to the Dimholt Road. Sure enough, there he was, tying his bedroll to Brego’s saddle. Ginny cleared her throat loudly and he whirled around to see her standing there, arms folded and looking very angry. 

 

“Where exactly do you think you’re going?” she asked him, using her angry voice - the one that Aragorn, like many others, had learned to fear. 

 

"Ginny-"

 

“Don’t you ‘Ginny’ me,” she interrupted him. “What the hell is wrong with you? First of all, you go and leave me in the middle of the night - the _middle of the night,_ Aragorn, what made you think that was okay? Don’t answer that, I’m not done. Why you did it doesn’t matter, it was rude and inconsiderate and kinda cowardly. 

 

"And second, why the _fuck_ would you try to do this alone? It’s a fucking _suicide mission,_ ” she said, her voice getting a little bit softer and damn it she could feel her eyes starting to well up. “We talked about this, I literally _just_ talked to you about this and you _need_ someone to watch your reckless back!” she said. With every word, she had gotten closer to him and now, she was only a few inches away and on her way to slapping him upside the head, only to be stopped by Aragorn’s hand on her wrist. “Let go of me,” she ordered.

 

“No.”

 

“Let go of me, or so help me, Eru, I will castrate you,” she threatened. Aragorn quirked an eyebrow at her. “Alright, maybe I won’t castrate you, but if you don’t let go of me, it’ll be a long while before I let you kiss me again,” she said. He let go of her wrist and took stock of their surroundings. Determining that there was no one watching, he gave her a quick, chaste kiss.

 

“No, you are not allowed to kiss me when I’m mad at you,” Ginny hissed. “You are not going to go to the Dimholt on your own,” she stated, “I’m coming with you."

 

"I will not take you with me to certain death," Aragorn said softly, and damn it, the look in his eyes almost crumbled Ginny's resolve. 

 

“Well, tough,” she said. “Even if you did somehow manage to leave without me, I’d just follow you,” she challenged him. Aragorn sighed exasperatedly. He loved her for her stubbornness, he really did, but sometimes it was frustrating.

 

"What can I say to make you stay behind?” he asked her, and when he looked down at her, Ginny could see the love in his eyes that she knew was mirrored in her own.

 

"Nothing."

 

Aragorn sighed in defeat. _She will follow no matter what, you know this,_ he told himself

 

"Fine, so be it,” he agreed. "I assume you've already packed your things?" he asked with a little smile. 

 

"Of course," Ginny replied with a little smile of her own. 

 

* * *

 

"No, I have already agreed to let Ginny join me, I will not let the rest of you follow me as well," Aragorn argued. Legolas, Gimli, and George had cut them off on their way to the mouth of the path. Ginny hadn't been at all surprised, but Aragorn was less than happy with the new development. 

 

"Yes, we are, laddie," Gimli said firmly, and Aragorn's face took on a resigned expression. "You might as well accept it."

 

“Have you learned nothing of the stubbornness of dwarves?" Legolas asked him. Aragorn shook his head in disbelief. He was going to end up being joined by them, that was now inevitable, and inwardly, he was glad not to have to face the Dimholt alone. 

 

“George, where’s your shit, aren’t you coming?” Ginny asked her brother, directing Aragorn’s attention towards the older Weasley.

 

"Nah, I'm gonna stay with Théoden's men," he said, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "They need all the help they can get."

 

Ginny nodded and hugged her brother tightly. 

 

"Don't die," she all but ordered. 

 

"Same to you, Gin," George replied. The two siblings broke apart and George watched as they mounted their horses and took the first steps down the Dimholt Road. He stood and watched until the mist clouded them from view. Behind George, he failed to notice men trickling out from their tents to watch as well. 

 

"Where is he going?" one man asked. 

 

"Lord Aragorn!" another called after said man. They were out of sight and the men turned to each other - a sizable crowd now. 

 

"Why does he leave on the eve of battle?" a man asked from the crowd. 

 

"He leaves because there is no hope," Gamling answered the man's question. 

 

"He leaves because he has to," George stood up in defense of his friend. 

 

"Too few have come," Gamling went on, "we cannot defeat the armies of Mordor."

 

"No, we cannot," Théoden agreed, joining the conversation in a commanding, kingly tone, "but we will meet them in battle nonetheless."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! If you liked the chapter, let me know with kudos or in a comment.


	32. Spectral

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Weasleys are not ones to suffer fools.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aaaand we're back, kids, i know there aren't many of you readers but hey this fic is already finished so why not post it
> 
> I still don't own Harry Potter or Lord of the Rings. If I did, I wouldn't be worried about paying for grad school.

Ginny, Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli rode through the night and into the next day. They passed through crags of rock, dying trees, and cold fog in near silence save for the occasional request for food or drink. It was late morning - perhaps early afternoon, Ginny wasn’t entirely sure - when Gimli spoke up, drawing them all out of their thoughts.

 

“What kind of army would linger in such a place?” he asked in disbelief. Legolas launched into an explanation, but Ginny let herself tune it out; Aragorn had already explained it all to her. Still, she dimly registered Legolas telling Gimli about the army of the dead and their broken oath. As he finished speaking, the air filled with an eerie silence, only broken by the sounds of hoofbeats.

 

They turned another corner and up ahead, Ginny saw an archway in the face of the mountain - the mouth of a tunnel leading inside. A sudden gust of cold air blew past them, chilling them to the bone.

 

“The very warmth of my blood seems stolen away,” Gimli remarked, and Ginny nodded absently in agreement. _The door to the Dimholt._ As they approached it, the ground grew to be more treacherous and the road began to narrow, so the group of four dismounted from their horses and continued on foot. At a closer distance, Ginny was able to pick out more of the details and she honestly wished that she couldn’t. It was downright grisly. There were bones littered all over the ground and in the face of the mountain, skulls had been wedged into cracks in the stone. She noticed an inscription carved into the rock, though she wasn’t quite close enough to read it.

 

“The way is shut,” Legolas said. _Well alright then, elf eyes, just go ahead and show off your superb reading skills for us, why don’t you._ “It was made by those who are dead, and the dead keep it. The way is shut.”

 

As he finished reading the inscription, a gust of cold air blew from the door. Ginny was forcibly reminded of times at Hogwarts when the ghosts would just float straight through the crowds of students, not caring that they were causing extreme discomfort for them all. _Yes,_ she decided, _that was definitely some sort of ghost._ Though Ginny was not too perturbed by the ghost, the horses were a different story. They reared and whinnied, and darted back down the road, away from their four riders.

 

“Brego!” Aragorn called after his horse, though it did not listen.

 

“ _Accio weapons! Accio rations! Accio supplies!_ ” Ginny cried, pointing her wand after the fleeing horses. Saddlebags untied themselves and objects came flying at the four of them. Ginny looked over the supplies as they landed and was dismayed to see that she hadn’t been able to save all of their belongings, though she _did_ save an awful lot of it. She ran an exasperated hand trough her hair and crouched down to pack up what she could. She was strapping one of her spare daggers to her belt when she felt a warm hand on her shoulder. She turned to see who it was and saw Aragorn looking at her reassuringly. 

 

“You’ve done what you can,” he said, moving his hand to gently cup her cheek. Ginny managed a small smile and he returned it. “Come, let’s pack all this up.”

 

Ginny, Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli made quick work of packing the salvaged supplies and weaponry and it wasn’t long before they stood before the door once more.

Ginny watched as Aragorn steeled himself for what had to be done - squaring his shoulders and shifting his grip on his sword.

 

“I do not fear death,” he finally said, striding through the door and into the mountain.

 

_Well maybe you don’t, but I sure as hell fear it for you, love,_ Ginny remarked inwardly even as she followed him, Legolas and Gimli right behind her.

 

* * *

 

The morning was a busy one at Dunharrow. Men were preparing their saddles and armor, packing their tents and bedrolls, and eating what they could before they moved out. George was no exception. With the aid of a few packing spells he’d learned from his mother, he had his belongings ready for travel quite quickly and so spent most of the morning helping Merry and Éowyn with their things. The two of them, along with a few other noblewomen and men, would be staying long enough to see the army off, but would then be returning to Edoras. 

 

“The people are to follow my rule in my uncle’s stead,” Éowyn said suddenly to George while they were taking down her tent. George made a somewhat noncommittal but curious noise, prompting her to go on. “He wants me to take up the throne if he and my brother should not return.”

 

George kept working, waiting for her to continue, but there was nothing but silence from the woman. A bit puzzled, the wizard looked up from the tent he had been trying to fold to see her with a distraught and worried look on her face. Dropping the tent and the task at hand, George approached her, gently taking her hands in his own.

 

“Éowyn, I don’t know how comforting this will be, but I will do everything I can to ensure that your brother and uncle come home to you,” he said seriously. She looked up at him and George was stricken by both her beauty and the concern in her eyes. 

 

“Thank you,” Éowyn said with utmost sincerity. “Though I would appreciate it if you would try to return as well,” she added with a small smile. George grinned down at her. 

 

“I’ll certainly try, my lady,” he said. They lingered there, her blue eyes stuck staring into his brown ones, for quite a while, longer than Éowyn knew was appropriate, until finally she looked away. 

 

“Well, my lord, I am sure that there are other more important things for you to be doing to prepare for your ride,” she said, gently pulling her hands out of his grip. George nodded and also shrugged.

 

“Not more important, but yes, I suppose that there are other duties that I could tend to,” he replied. He grasped one of her hands again and brought it up to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to her knuckles. “Until we meet again, my lady," he said in farewell, leaving her alone with her thoughts. 

 

If Éowyn had not been certain of her feelings for the ginger haired man before, she most certainly was now. 

 

* * *

 

“Fred, you and your brother placed protective charms on Helm’s Deep to ward off Saruman’s forces, correct?” Gandalf said without preamble as he burst into Fred’s guest room on the seventh level of Minas Tirith. Fred nodded dumbly in response. “Good. Follow me.”

 

The white wizard swept out of the room as fast as he had come and Fred had to scramble to catch up with him. Gandalf led the way through the halls and out to the courtyard, stopping at the wall overlooking the city and the fields of Pelennor. _Holy shit._ Fred knew that there was an orc army on the way from Mordor, but he had not been expecting this fucking many. It was like the fields had been flooded with the beasts. 

 

“I’m on it.”

 

“Good man,” Gandalf said, clapping the young wizard on the shoulder and leaving him to plan out his spells.

 

* * *

 

Ginny had severely underestimated how long it would take them to get anywhere important in the mountain. It had been a few hours, nearly three of them if Ginny's internal clock was correct, and they'd hardly gotten anywhere. It didn't help that the place was fucking creepy; Ginny was more than ready to breathe fresh air again. They trooped along at a steady pace, Aragorn leading them and Ginny right behind, with Legolas after her and Gimli bringing up the rear. 

 

"What is it, what do you see?" Ginny heard Gimli ask from behind them. She turned, puzzled, and saw that Legolas had stopped, tense as he surveyed the tunnel. 

 

"I see shapes of men and of horses," he answered. _The dead army,_ Ginny thought to herself. 

 

“Where?” Gimli prodded. 

 

“Pale banners like shreds of cloud," Legolas continued, failing to answer the question. "Spears rise like winter thickets through a shroud of mist. The dead are following," he proclaimed. "They have been summoned.” With that Legolas darted forward again with renewed vigor, falling into step beside Ginny as they followed Aragorn. 

 

“The dead?" Ginny heard Gimli going on behind them. "Summoned? I knew that. Very good. Very good - L _egolas!_ ” the dwarf shouted after them, and they could hear his slightly frantic and hurried steps. Ginny and Legolas shared grins. Once they got out of this godforsaken mountain, Gimli would never hear the end of their teasing. 

 

After awhile, thy slowed again, and Ginny had drifted up to walk beside Aragorn. The path was beginning grow wider and there was mist up ahead, clouding the floor. Ginny watched as ghostly hands began to materialize in the mist, reaching for them and grasping at them. It did no good, of course, but it was more than disconcerting. As Ginny watched, she caught a glimpse of the floor and immediately looked back up. _Alright, that's just bloody disgusting._

 

“Don't look down,” she said tersely. Naturally, Aragorn looked down at the floor that was practically _paved_ with human skulls and looked back up fairly quickly, his face stern an closed off to hide his disgust. 

 

Finally, the mist began to clear and they stumbled into a cavernous room. In spite of the darkness, Ginny could tell that it was impressively large. 

 

" _Lumos maxima,_ " Ginny cast, pointing her wand upwards. A concentrated little ball of light shot up from the tip of her wand and stopped midair, expanding to illuminate the large room. They wandered a bit, examining the rocky ruins, until they felt that same telltale bone chilling breeze they'd felt outside the mountain. They turned towards the source and saw a ghastly green figure of a man appearing before them. His body was skeletal and the remains of what was once surely impressive regalia hung limply over his shoulders. 

 

"Who enters my domain?" the king of the dead demanded to know. 

 

“One who will have your allegiance,” Aragorn countered, approaching the apparition. 

 

“The dead do not suffer the living to pass,” the ghost told them. As he spoke, Ginny, Legolas, and Gimli moved to stand behind Aragorn in support of him. 

 

“You _will_ suffer me," Aragorn disagreed. 

 

The dead king laughed him off, and as he did, his decay became more noticeable - they could now see the rotten flesh clinging to his cheekbones and the limp hair sticking out under his helm. Around them, the ghostly forms of a long-lost city appeared into being, soon followed by the army - a massive army. 

 

“The way is shut," the dead king repeated what Legolas had read only hours before, "it was made by those who are dead and the dead keep it. The way is shut, and now you must die.”

 

Reflexively, Ginny threw a stinging hex at the ghostly king, though the light passed straight through him, ricocheting off the stone and fading quickly. Aragorn spared her a look, silently asking her not to further antagonize this man. _Only because it's_ you _asking, Aragorn._

 

“I summon you to fulfill your oath!” Aragorn said, and something in his tone changed - it was regal and commanding - he sounded like a king. 

 

“None but the King of Gondor can command me."

 

In response, Aragorn lifted his sword, displaying the reforged blade. The ghostly king raised his own sword to strike Aragorn down, but Anduril blocked the blow and the resulting _clang_ echoed for what felt like an age. 

 

“That line was broken!” the dead king cried, confused and angry. In response, Aragorn unlocked their swords and closed his hand around the ghost's neck, Anduril at his throat. 

 

“It has been remade!” he countered. After a beat, he released the king and turned to the masses. "Fight for us and regain your honor," he proposed. "What say you?" His voice was commanding and regal, though there was no response from the transparent green mass. "What say you?"

 

"You waste your time, Aragorn," Gimli spoke up. "They had no honor in life, they have none now in death."

 

"I am Isildur's heir," Aragorn continued, ignoring Gimli. "Fight for me and I will hold your oaths fulfilled!" The was he spoke, Ginny could really see him as a king - and now was quite possibly the _worst_ time to be turned on, but she couldn't help it. _Damn you, Aragorn, you choose_ now _to find your sexy and commanding king voice?_

 

"What say you?"

 

There was silence, echoing and deafening silence, for a few lingering moments. Then it was broken by laughter - the dead king laughed in their faces as he and the ghostly army began to fade from view. 

 

“You have my word!” Aragorn said, and Ginny could hear a little bit of desperation leaking into his voice. “Fight and I will release you from this living death! What say you?”

They continued to fade from sight and it wasn't long before they had disappeared entirely. 

 

“Fuck you too, you traitors!” Ginny yelled at the now empty room. Her wand was sparking in her hand from pent-up emotion and aggression that she _needed_ to release, and she was moments away from exploding, but she was calmed by Aragorn's hand on her wand arm. 

 

Suddenly, a rumbling began to shake the chamber - low and soft quickly crescendoing into powerful and loud. Stones fell from the far wall and out f the holes they left, something started spilling out. If Ginny didn't know better, she'd think that they were skulls, but that simply couldn't be- nope. They were. 

 

“Honestly, are you fucking kidding me?” Ginny asked herself aloud as she brandished her wand and stemmed the flow of _skulls_ of all things, closing up the holes they were pouring out of and vanishing the rest of them. She stormed out into the light and she could feel Aragorn's impressed, proud, and slightly wary gaze on her back as he and the others followed her. 

 

"Damn melodramatic ghosts," Ginny muttered under her breath. 

 

They made it outside, but Ginny couldn't even appreciate the fresh air - she was too damn angry. _How fucking dare they?_ She'd thought that it might have been Aragorn's pride talking when he said he did not want to go to these dishonorable traitors for help, but she understood now. She heaved an angry and frustrated sigh and turned to face the others who stood behind her on the grassy mountainside. 

 

Legolas and Gimli looked discouraged and helpless, but Aragorn was downright defeated. Ginny moved to stand beside him and noticed that his gaze was fixed on something to his right. Ginny turned to look and her heart sank even further. 

 

There were ships on the river - pirate ships, the very pirate ships they were supposed to stop, and judging from the rising smoke downriver, they had just had their way with a small village. If only there weren't so damn many of them! Then Ginny probably could have done something about it - freeze the river, set fire to the boats, even simply _stop_ the boats. But she couldn't. Not only were there too damn many of them, but she was magically exhausted after stopping what she guessed was supposed to have been a skull avalanche. 

 

Beside her, Aragorn fell to his knees in defeat. Ginny bit her lip to stop the tears threatening to spill over and hugged her ranger to her side, offering what comfort she could. 

 

A strange whooshing noise sounded behind them and they were quick to turn to see what it was; Aragorn wasted no time getting to his feet and moving to stand slightly in front of Ginny. 

It was the king of the dead. He stood - well, floated more like - before them, still looking just as menacing as ever in spite of the bright sunlight. 

 

“We fight.”

 

* * *

 

Fred noticed a pretty damn loud commotion coming from the courtyard of the citadel and so naturally, having finished what wards he could put up around the white city, he went to investigate. As he walked, he saw Pippin ahead of him and took a few longer strides to catch up with the hobbit. 

 

"Any idea what's going on?" he asked. 

 

"None at all," Pippin replied with a little bit of a smile. Fred gave him a grin and the two of them were quick to come upon the courtyard. What they saw wasn't pretty. 

 

There were about five guards standing around someone on a stretcher and someone was kneeling before it - Denethor, Fred thought. That man was a piece of work. As they got closer, Pippin tried to get a better look at who the injured party was, but he couldn't get a good look. 

 

"They were outnumbered," one of the soldiers said, "none survived."

 

Below them, there sounded a resounding and sickening _thwang_ of catapults being fired, followed by the cries of men and of citizens. The orcs had begun their attack. 

 

"My sons are spent," Denethor said, rising to stand and staggering away from the body on the stretcher. _Faramir._ Fred and Pippin rushed to their friend's side, quick to check for breath and a pulse. "My line has ended!" Denethor cried. 

 

He had a pulse. 

 

"He's alive!" Pippin called out, but while the soldiers listened, Denethor didn't seem to hear it. 

 

"The house of stewards has failed," he muttered as he stumbled towards the wall on the edge of the courtyard. 

 

"He needs medicine, my lord!" Fred said angrily. He's not dead yet, but this old man _will_ kill his son if he doesn't open his damn eyes!

 

"My line has ended!" the steward wailed as he looked down on the city and the siege that was about to begin. 

 

"My lord!" Pippin tried again. 

 

"Rohan has deserted us."

 

Below, the catapults fired again, throwing boulders now and sending towers and walls crashing to the ground. "Theoden’s betrayed me." Screams could be heard from the lower levels. Denethor straightened up a bit and Fred and Pippin exchanged wary looks. They both knew this man was a bit of a nutcase and did not want to know what he would do next. 

 

" _Abandon your posts! Flee, flee for your lives!"_ the steward called down to his men. _What? What the fuck?_ He seemed to be preparing to shout again and Fred got to his feet, ready to intervene, but Gandalf got there first. Fred and Pippin watched as the Istar came up behind the steward and raised his staff. Denethor turned to see who it was, looking not unlike an extremely hungover drunkard, and Gandalf smacked him right in the face with his staff. Denethor's hands flew up to his nose and Gandalf took the opportunity to hit him in the stomach. He doubled over in pain and the wizard hit him one last time, right in the middle of the back, and he was down. Gandalf went to the wall where Denethor had just stood and called out to the city. 

 

"Prepare for battle!" 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, let me know what you thought in a comment!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!


End file.
